luggage regulation

Luggages never know when they're supposed to get lost.

At the behest of my mother, I originally went home with one suitcase zipped inside the other like Russian nesting dolls. "Bring an empty suitcase in case you have lots of things to take back," she said, advising me like I was some sort of tourist. But because I loved her (and because she is usually right), I did as she said.

Good thing, too. In two weeks' time, the few shirts and two pairs of jeans that I brought home had somehow evolved into a smorgasbord of old dresses, a smattering of DVDs (must admit, stole them from my brother), packets of milk tea and sweet Chinese sausage. Unwrapping a big greenish fitted sheet revealed a cheery orange ricecooker housing a jar of chocolate spread and a little pot of BBQ sauce, like a very squat Mother Ginger. I'm still not all the way unpacked yet, but I'm sure other random items are going to pop up.

Now, I had gotten to the airport via bus, and I had planned to get back to my apartment the same way. Having two monstrous pieces of luggage put a damper on that plan somewhat, as I had trouble even dragging them, much less hauling them onto a bus and then walking the 1/2 mile or so home.

"Do not accept rides from strangers at the airport," my mother said firmly. She added a glare for good measure. (How did she know about my riding-in-car-with-stranger episode? She can't possibly read this blog, she barely speaks/reads English. Or does she know more English than she's letting on? Or...EDDIE YUE, ARE YOU READING THIS RIGHT NOW AND TELLING MOMMY THINGS?!?!)

"Don't be ridiculous," I said. "I will take the bus."

"Are you out of your mind?" she countered swiftly. "Do you really expect to lift those things on the bus? And then walk home? Who do you think you are? Just take a taxi."

"But taking a taxi would be like, $40," I said, mentally visiting my bank account. "And taking the bus is only $2."

My mother reconsidered. "$2, that's a lot cheaper," she said.

"Well, my luggage got lost that first time that I went to Chicago. Maybe it'll get lost again," I said hopefully. "Then I can just take the bus, and it'll be delivered to me in the morning."

While this seemed to be a decent plan to me, my mother was doubtful. Nevertheless, we made sure that all the perishable stuff was put in my backpack, which I was bringing on the plane with me. The two suitcases were duly checked in at the airport, and before I left, my dad asked me if I had enough money for the taxi ride. I assumed that I could use my credit card to pay for it, so I just told him yes, and didn't stop by the bank before going to the airport. Besides, I was still hoping that the luggage would get lost and I wouldn't have to worry about getting a taxi.

But when I got off at O'Hare, the smaller of my two grey suitcases was already bobbing around the baggage claim like an ex that just won't go away--you know, the kind that leaves you Facebook messages like "So you're back in Chicago, huh? Me too! We should get a taxi together and go back to your place!" The second suitcase surfaced soon after, and I resigned myself to spending a week's worth of grocery money to get back to Engelhart.

So I hailed a cab. I asked if I could pay with credit. The driver said yep, and went back to talking on his Bluetooth or whatever. I texted Eddie and Tyler to let them know I was alive. I probably should've started feeling uneasy when the driver didn't know how to get to Maple Ave and I had to give him directions (directions not being my strongpoint, as some may know). When we got to my apartment, it turned out that his credit card machine was broken and I didn't have much cash on me. Blargh. Not the best situation. After some panicking, he said that he'd just take the money and that would be fine, which was really nice of him. So now there's a very nice taxi driver out there who is short $10 b/c I was counting on the incompetence of airlines to save me from having to take said taxi. He drove cab number 3673, so if anyone somehow finds themselves in his cab, please give him an extra $10 and I will pay you back.

Anyway, my point is that this would not have happened if my luggage had had the good sense to get themselves sent out to Pennsylvania or something. Sigh. Silly luggages.