I lost sixty pounds today!
All of it being my SUITCASE, misplaced by the good folks at American Airlines.
But I made it home safely, and since I was on the homeward-bound portion of my trip, I can probably get by until tomorrow when AA is supposed to hand-deliver my suitcase to me here in Collinsville.
Apparently, the bright-eyed individuals in charge of luggage at Dulles saw fit to put my suitcase on the non-stop flight to DFW, since I was flying on a light commuter jet and was going to be making a connection part-way through. Funny thing, though, my commuter jet sat at the gate at Dulles an extra half hour waiting on some ballast for the luggage compartment because we were too light in back.
It was all just too humorous. I'm still laughing.
Oh... and the miles-long line at the baggage claim desk? Not only was it glacially slow (they can't really help that; the ladies up there were very cordial and polite and did everything they could to find all our luggage), but there was a husband behind me who just might win the award for insufferable rudeness and nastiness to his poor wife who patiently bore it. I'd guess they were in their late sixties, more or less, and if I'd've been that man's wife, I'd've punched him in the nose. Her name was Joan. I know this because he kept repeating it acidly (along with obscenities and insults) as she gamely walked through the aisles and aisles of misplaced luggage that was strewn about the claim area. I hope that the mega-bling perched on her left-hand ring finger was worth the vitriol. I'm sure it wouldn't be for me.
It was a jolting end to an idyllic trip, really. My time in DC was about as pleasant and perfect as a trip could be, even considering the daunting subject matter of Holocaust study. I hadn't been to DC since the Carter administration [gesundheit], and since I was in the seventh grade at that time, there's a lot I needed to catch up on. I don't think the trip could've been more relaxed and uncomplicated, although my physical condition (or lack thereof) prevented me from seeing all I might've.
Back in 1978, I remember being amused by a t-shirt reading, "A woman's place is in the House... and the Senate." That, and the little domed trashcans painted to look just like R2-D2. It was a Spring Break trip and was in March, so all my fuzzy photographs taken on my little 110 camera had gray skies in the background. Not so much this time around -- HOT and sunny and chokingly humid.
It's good to be home, but I had a wonderful time.
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