My Suitcase is in Denver… But I’m Not

September 15, 2008 at 5:00 pm 12 comments

I don’t ski. And neither does my suitcase. However, it’s quite possible it will be in Colorado for the skiing season.

I suppose I shouldn’t really complain. My navy-blue American Tourister had a reasonably peaceful afternoon upon arrival on Saturday at San Francisco International Airport, where it was tagged and placed on a conveyor belt on its way to being deposited into the belly of an aircraft. At least it knew where it was going. Unlike myself, who spent several hours running back and forth between the pay phone and the airline check-in desk, wondering if I’d ever make it back to Blighty.

You see, I was supposed to fly to Denver, then change planes to London, had the flight to Denver out of San Francisco not been delayed by two hours, thereby making the connection an impossibility. Apparently San Francisco International Airport is notorious for delays, as is this particular airline. Several conversations with telephone reservations as well as the check-in people at the airport later, I ended up with a colourful hodgepodge of bookings, offering me routing through Chicago, Washington, and Los Angeles (along with a couple of standby reservations), the airline neglecting to mention that I was no longer on any Denver to London flights for either the original day or the following day, despite my being told at check-in that I had two bookings from Denver to London for both Saturday and Sunday, and despite my suitcase being checked through from San Francisco to Denver to London, and despite my boarding passes from San Francisco to Denver to London, and despite a non-refundable Denver hotel reservation only moments away from being booked and paid for. (The airline refused to pay for a hotel.)

Who is this glorious airline? Will I be sued if I tell? Let’s just say that their name begins with a “U” and ends with a “D”. And I will avoid them like the bloody plague next time I get my arse booked on a flight to America.

By the time I made what would be (or so I thought) my final flight booking, which was to be via LA (with yet another hotel room due to be reserved and paid for so that I could fly out to London the next afternoon), I went racing back through security to the check-in counter, jumped the queue (don’t cross me when I’m stressed), and tried to get my suitcase back. Well, U****D wasn’t having it, despite the nearly two hours they had in which to retrieve it. So while I was panicking about having to stay at a hotel overnight with nothing but the clothes on my back and a couple of Granny Smith apples, someone FINALLY decided to do something that actually made a bit of sense: get me on another airline to London that same evening. Ergo I was placed on stand-by with British Airways (ahh… civilisation). After trekking to the international terminal and finally locating the BA counter (do they want people to actually find them???), a new boarding card was placed in my sweaty little hand.

Of course the fun wasn’t over yet. I must’ve looked either very dodgy or very deranged – or else it was because I came from the big bad domestic terminal and from another carrier, but I got singled out for an extensive security search. Now, get your mind out of the gutter – we aren’t talking strip search here, although I did receive the cheap thrill of getting air blown on me in some glassed-in cubicle. Ooh, the life of an erotic writer!!!!!!!!!!

Okay, I can take it; I’ve been through worse in my lifetime. But I definitely draw the line when it comes to my bear. You harm one hair on his furry little head and you’re dead meat, mate! Well, the poor guy was removed from his warm and cosy little backpack, placed on a cold metal table, and treated to the indignity of being manhandled by some security geezer at SFO. I sat by and kept a very close watch, since Teddy is still technically underage – and there ARE laws against this sort of thing in America. Teddy survived unscathed (wish I could say the same thing about myself), and Mr. Security Man offered us both a bright California smile. I should add that the gentleman seemed far more involved in a relationship with my shoes, a characteristic I find rather worrisome in a man.

Now for the contents of my errant suitcase: I’m quite worried about the fate of my sexy little Staind vest top, which I need for this Friday night, since I’m going to see the Massachusetts lads at the O2 Arena in London. Add to this some cookies from Trader Joe’s and the earrings I bought in Wales – these things are not so easily replaced. Teddy also had a nifty pair of shades in the suitcase, which sadly he never got to wear, since he spent most of his time in bed or else avoiding a rather dodgy feline character named Oliver.

It’s all well and good to file a lost baggage claim and get a few quid out of the deal, but trying to replace all those items, and taking the time to replace them… well, I’d rather have my suitcase back than a few paltry pounds in my pocket and the aggro of having to go shopping to try to replace what is, for the most part, irreplaceable. You see, I hate shopping. Yes, I am a woman who hates shopping. It takes me up to three hours just to buy a pair of knickers. Don’t believe me? Ask my mother, who thought I was kidnapped by sex traffickers at a Macy’s in South Florida when I vanished in the lingerie department.

All I can say is, that suitcase better bloody well get here and soon, or else there will be major hell to pay…

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12 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Esri Rose  |  September 15, 2008 at 9:50 pm

    I figured you must have flown on American. They’re the ones know for delays domestically. Domestically, United is usually pretty good, but I suppose all bets are off when you’re flying internationally.

    You’ll probably get your suitcase back, but lord knows how long it will take, and your cookies will likely be in crumbs.

    Glad Teddy (and you) survived the ordeal.

    Reply
  • 2. mitziszereto  |  September 15, 2008 at 10:07 pm

    Nope it wasn’t American. But yup, it was the big U. And yup, my cookies are not in very good shape. BA delivered the suitcase this evening. Had I left it to U, I suspect the suitcase might have ended up being delivered to Aberdeen.

    Reply
  • 3. curiouser and curiouser  |  September 16, 2008 at 3:44 am

    i wish i were still a travel agent. i have a mileage plus card and i’ve had to deal with your lovely u*****d on many a misconnected occasion for stranded (or stranded to be) passengers, quite often with me winning the battle.

    i would have hooked you up.

    Reply
  • 4. J. N. Sander  |  September 16, 2008 at 6:08 am

    Thankfully you and Teddy are okay.
    It’s a wonder you got the suitcase from Denver. DIA is
    the worst terminal ever, IMHO.

    Reply
  • 5. steadycat  |  September 16, 2008 at 8:06 am

    That airline sucks.

    I feel really bad for you and your suitcase. Would it be bad to admit that I did laugh while reading your story? Nevertheless, write a letter of complaint and email it to Uni..d’s headquarters. Ask for a free ticket/replacement ticket for your next trip as compensation. They may or may not give you a free ticket, but they should (at least) give you a discounted ticket – which you may not want to use – because they suck.

    It is rare but I’m hoping you get your suitcase back with everything just as you left it.

    Reply
  • 6. mitziszereto  |  September 16, 2008 at 9:54 am

    Thanks to Trevor at BA, I got my suitcase last night. And it was intact. Though my Trader Joe’s cookies were not exactly in tip-top shape. :-((

    Reply
  • 7. Stuart Burrell  |  September 16, 2008 at 12:12 pm

    Glad you and Tedd are safe. Also glad to see you got the case back.

    Reply
  • 8. Antler  |  September 16, 2008 at 7:04 pm

    Oh My…….

    Could have been so much worse – you could have been stranded yourself like those other poor souls who went on an airline with 2 letters!

    If only your suitcase could speak……..well, you may be thankful it can’t.

    Reply
  • 9. Chaz Folkes  |  September 17, 2008 at 2:25 pm

    Reminds me of the old line about BA: Breakfast in London. Lunch in New York. Luggage in Hong Kong.

    I once worked in a conference centre where I managed to send someone’s suitcase off to the airport with instructions for it to go to Cairo. I doubt it would have been allowed on the plane to be honest, but you should have seen the guest jumping up and down…

    Reply
  • 10. Joy Leftow  |  September 18, 2008 at 5:58 pm

    I know I know – it’s happened to me stuck without a toothbrush or fresh panties!

    Reply
  • 11. Lisa M  |  September 18, 2008 at 11:13 pm

    Mitzi, you partygirl, you! Glad to hear you had a great time!!

    xx

    Reply
  • 12. Joy  |  October 26, 2008 at 1:35 am

    cool blog. Party on!

    Reply

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What I Get Up To

I write, I blog, I Mitzi TV, I network, I breathe, I get my name in the press... I'm a true Renaissance lass! My books include IN SLEEPING BEAUTY'S BED: EROTIC FAIRY TALES; GETTING EVEN: REVENGE STORIES (crime); THE NEW BLACK LACE BOOK OF WOMEN'S SEXUAL FANTASIES (non-fiction/survey); DYING FOR IT: TALES OF SEX AND DEATH (multi-genre); THE WORLD’S BEST SEX WRITING 2005 (non-fiction/criticism); WICKED: SEXY TALES OF LEGENDARY LOVERS; the EROTIC TRAVEL TALES anthology series; the M. S. Valentine erotic novels; and a slew of titles available on Amazon Kindle. Find me on Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, Flickr, LinkedIn, Plaxo, Tumblr, Plurk, Social Median, and wherever else I might decide to turn up!

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