I can’t resist the temptation to complete a trilogy of my ‘missing luggage’ stories. The first two are here and here.
I landed in Mumbai one day and waited patiently for that last piece of luggage to come out of the plane. And sure enough, it was a brown-coloured VIP suitcase. Except that it wasn’t mine.
I went across to the Jet Airlines counter and reported that my precious suitcase seemed to have dematerialised above the clouds, but one deceptively similar to mine was going teasingly around on the carousel with no claimants for it. The whole thing was quite surreal.
In a brilliant piece of detective work, the Jet person deduced that someone must have walked off with my suitcase, mistaking it for his. With the luggage tag, the ground staff managed to track down the passenger’s name and his mobile number. He was contacted immediately and asked to return to the airport to exchange his suitcase (or, rather, mine) for mine (or, rather, his).
He reached the airport after 30 minutes or so, apologised profusely for the mistake, and offered to drop me off at Nariman Point, which was where I was headed. I accepted the offer and ended up saving Rs 500 for my company.
I landed in Mumbai one day and waited patiently for that last piece of luggage to come out of the plane. And sure enough, it was a brown-coloured VIP suitcase. Except that it wasn’t mine.
I went across to the Jet Airlines counter and reported that my precious suitcase seemed to have dematerialised above the clouds, but one deceptively similar to mine was going teasingly around on the carousel with no claimants for it. The whole thing was quite surreal.
In a brilliant piece of detective work, the Jet person deduced that someone must have walked off with my suitcase, mistaking it for his. With the luggage tag, the ground staff managed to track down the passenger’s name and his mobile number. He was contacted immediately and asked to return to the airport to exchange his suitcase (or, rather, mine) for mine (or, rather, his).
He reached the airport after 30 minutes or so, apologised profusely for the mistake, and offered to drop me off at Nariman Point, which was where I was headed. I accepted the offer and ended up saving Rs 500 for my company.
So, even on the rare occasion when my luggage had not been the last to arrive, the God who presides over the destinies of travelling salesmen had made sure that I was the last to leave the airport, but in a compensating gesture had spared me the expense of a taxi ride.
7 comments:
This is a bit eerie.
Happened to me in Colombo. This was the first time I was using the black and brown VIP. Spotted it,picked up got a wave at customs and headed straight to my hotel. An hour after I received a call from someone asking me to check if I had my suitcase with me and sadly, I had walked away with someone else's box.
Thankfully I did not have to go back to the airport but the hotel arranged to send someone with the box and the keys to my suitcase in case customs needed to open my box.
I am sure they must have all got pretty suspicious of my behavior and insisted on opening the box!!
Usha, you must resist this urge to walk away with someone else's suitcase. It just requires some determination.
I love your deadpan humour. Does your face also remain equally poker-faced in real life when you say something funny?
And more travel stories please! I loved this story the best in the trilogy.
I too like shruthi am curious to know the face behind this wonderful sense of humor or shd it be 'the face in front of'...Whatever.
So please send your photos in the process of saying something funny, and when you are not saying anything as well as two profile views.
Thank you
Raj - Am impressed ! ..Balaji...
I simply enjoy reading these posts of yours. Right from the start I have this grin on my face.like reading a P.G.W.and just like others I am so curious to know more.. Cheers
Girls, just google for "Raj the poker-faced" and you will see my photos!
Balaji: Ha, you are jealous that girls are asking for my photos!
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