Karma Is...

Karma is a bitch and her name is American Airlines.

I can even remember where I was on Friday evening when I started packing for my trip to North Carolina. I was sitting on my bed when it occurred to me I had never lost my luggage. I believe I even mentioned to Mike how it was a miracle because I had flown so much in my life. Fast forward to Monday afternoon as I sat staring at the conveyor. Three flights had picked up their luggage since mine and it was evident mine had not made the switch over from American to United Airlines.

Damn.

I went first to the American Airlines counter. I asked if they could trace the luggage. No. They don’t use a scan system. United does, so I should try there. I make the walk to United Airlines.

The smiling lady admitted she was new. The man in front of me didn’t care. He proceeded to yell at her and point to his pictures of his luggage. Apparently, this had happened before.

When it was my turn she let me know my luggage had not made it into the United system. This means it’s still in Chicago and somewhere in American’s possession. Ah ha! The old point the finger trick. I fill out a form and describe my luggage. It’s a small, black, roller bag. Yeah, just like everyone else’s. Oh, and did I mention it had no name tags? I noticed that as I dropped it off. I didn’t want to wait to fill it out because there was a line behind me. I didn’t want to cause a delay.

Oh, but here one was. Waiting for me in North Carolina.

They tell me it could take a few days to find the bag. I left my information and go find a cab.

Now, I do my best not to stereotype taxi drivers. However, here was my cab driver in Middle Eastern traditional garments. I smiled and told him where I needed to go. Immediately I notice what he’s listening to on the radio. Its talk radio about the war; how the insurgents have attacked a group of American and Iraqi troops. I start listening until I realize my cab driver is talking to me. He’s laughing and telling me how the stupid American’s thought they could make a difference. He starts talking about all the things that are wrong with America. I start to block him out. I wasn’t going to argue with the man who was driving me to safety. After all I didn’t even have luggage to throw at him. I gave him a very small tip. He got the hint I think. I’m not sure. I just heard screaming after I left the cab.

I get to the hotel front desk. It’s the first time I feel safe since I got into North Carolina. I was shaken up by the missing luggage and the cab drive. I check in and get to my room. I figure I can’t unpack so I should probably go buy some clothes. I can unpack them.

I was a little uneasy when the cab showed up to take me to the mall. Especially when he tells me how horrible this side of town is and he recommends I call him directly and he’ll send someone to get me. I’m to wait inside the mall until they call me back and let me know they’re outside. I grew up in a bad area. I wasn’t too scared. I was thankful someone was looking out for me though; renewed my confidence in cab drivers. I don’t mean that sarcastically either.

I get to the mall and look through Sears. Nothing. I decide “buy shoes first, less depressing.” I was right. I found some cute heals. Made me feel a little better. Then on to the next store. I must have looked a little depressed as two associates ask me what they can help me with to make me feel better. I explain the situation. They immediately show their finest wares and send me to the dressing rooms. I decide on two pairs of pants, three shirts, and some nylons. This should take me through the “days” I was told it might take to locate the luggage. I leave with my new clothes and a nice large dollar amount on my credit card. I realize I still need underwear and a bra. I get back to Sears and buy the needed items and then call the cab. I wait inside as instructed. Again. He’s rather insistent I not step outside the building.

I get in the cab, back to the hotel, and realize if my luggage never arrives I’ll need to buy more to get this stuff home.

My luggage showed up this morning at 4 a.m... This is something I was not told about until I asked at 7:15 a.m.. I ran upstairs, combed my hair (forgot to buy a hair brush), and ran out the door onto the next cab. I have to say this…I will never, ever, mock Karma again.