Saturday, November 18, 2006

reunited (and it feels so good)

“hi. i think my suitcase may have entered the witness protection program.”

not exactly an approach anyone had taken before, judging from the reactions of the folks behind the (insert name of major airline that rhymes with “us fairways”) baggage counter.

we were already half an hour past daddy’s target departure time for the big road trip down to albuquerque, and i was suffering serious deodorant withdrawal. not wishing to make everyone else suffer the experience of spending approximately 57 ½ hours in the car with my funky pits, daddy and i had driven roughly ten miles to the kansas city airport in search of my missing (yet you would think it would be hard to miss, considering it’s a bright freaking orange) suitcase.

as you may recall, i was told thursday evening, when i reported my suitcase missing, that it would be delivered to me between 12:30 and 4:30 yesterday. as a result, we made sure someone was home to greet it at the door the entire day. because of both the urgent need for more underwear/socks and the whole “watched pot never boils” theory, my stepmother volunteered to stay home while i ventured out to old navy and vickie’s in search of something to throw on my body in an attempt to avoid having to turn certain items of apparel inside out and wearing them again. (sadly, she did not volunteer her debit card number for my little expedition, but i suppose that sort of thing only happens in julia roberts movies.)

after a phone call to the baggage delivery service, which, interestingly enough, is located another ten minutes away from the airport, in the bustling metropolis of platte city, missouri, it was determined that my suitcase had, in fact, made it to kansas city, and just happened to be staring the (undoubtedly harvard-educated) baggage delivery technician in the face. the aforementioned technician claimed he’d called several times yesterday, starting at 12:30 in the afternoon. (my reaction was a bit more understated than daddy’s, which was along the lines of a word i think i last heard him use at some point during my teenage years. in contrast, i use it on at least a weekly basis, if not daily.)

rather than have them deliver my suitcase to the airport while we waited, i obtained driving directions to the state-of-the-art facility where lost luggage eagerly await being reunited with their owners.

as you can imagine, daddy was thrilled with the prospect of driving another ten miles own I-29 to retrieve my luggage, especially since we were now an hour past our target departure time. in fact, during the entire drive to the baggage delivery facility, daddy imparted his philosophy involving lost luggage and the highly trained folks who handle it and so on and so forth.

to make a long story short (assuming it’s not already too late), i still have no clue what phone number they called yesterday, and i’m still pondering what exactly sort of qualifications one must have to be a baggage delivery person, but most importantly, i can tell you at this moment the precise location of both my deodorant and my underwear.

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