As a public service to my readers, let me urge you to carefully check all the pockets of any piece
of luggage before donating it to a thrift store.
I’ll explain in a moment.
Last week, as my wife and I were preparing for a week-long vacation in Colorado, I realized that
our son who is interning in Louisville this summer had most of our luggage.
The day before our flight, instead of asking to borrow luggage from friends or buying several pieces of new luggage, I had the brilliant idea to check out my local Goodwill store. I hit the jackpot with a couple of medium size suitcases in excellent condition for only $3.99 each.
You bought that where?
(As an aside, I find it odd that airports have luggage stores. Yet, in almost every airport, right next to Cinnabon and Hudson Street News and across from Starbucks and Sbarro’s Pizza, you’ll find a tiny store selling brand new suitcases.
Do people arrive at airports with their trip belongings in large garbage bags, look around at fellow travelers toting soft-sided Samsonite, and say to themselves, “Hey, I’d like to have something like that to carry my clothes back and forth on an airplane. I wonder where I can purchase such a handy item?”
Or do people already loaded down with suitcases, duffle bags, and laptop cases on their way to pick up their rental car suddenly think to themselves, “You know what I really need to complete this travel ensemble is a large silver hard-shell suitcase with nothing to put in it, purchased at inflated airport store prices.”)
But back to thrift store luggage.
After receiving applause from my wife for my frugal brilliance I began to pack one of the suitcases and from one of the front zippered pockets I pulled out a pair of black satin and lace panties. Being a wise man, I quickly ran to my wife in the next room and declared, “I just want you to know that these are NOT mine!”
Looking at me dangling the lingerie, she said, “On multiple levels I’m relieved to hear that. But
what are YOU doing with them?”
“I found them just now in the suitcase I bought, I swear.” I said hurriedly.
(Gentlemen, you always want to get ahead of any conversation that involves women’s underwear found in your luggage.)
Luggage love letters
After discarding the panties, I thought I’d be wise to carefully inspect the other suitcase. Lo and behold I found — no, not more women’s underwear — an envelope with a romantic greeting card and a full-page handwritten love note from Christina. Once again, I went quickly to my wife in
the next room.
(Gentlemen, you always want to get ahead of any conversation that involves a love letter from another woman found in your luggage.)
“I don’t know a Christina, I swear.”
Once again, Dorrie looked at me baffled. “And why are you telling me this?”
I thrust the card and letter at her. “It was in the other suitcase I bought.”
After reading a few lines, she said, “Well, unless you’ve told this Christina that your name is Jason, I think you’re safe. Are there any more suitcases I should know about?”
“That’s good. So, we can continue packing … unless you have any further declarations or confessions.”
We packed and had a wonderful vacation in the Colorado Rockies, which is spectacular anytime, but is heavenly refuge from a Tennessee July. However, I keep wondering if Jason and Christina are still together; and if so, what will Jason say in reply when Christina says, “Honey, what did you ever do with the letter in which I so vulnerably I poured out my heart and expressed my secret desires and my undying love for you?”
Good luck, Jason. I’m cheering for you, bro.