Flying . . . and Baggage Claim
Well, I got to spend a little time at the airport recently, and I think out of the many hours spent in transit my favorite part was baggage claim. I know you thought I was gonna say a bathroom stall . . . but nope, it's baggage handling & claim.
There is that quick check to make sure you have everything in the right place . . . and that you do not have anything on the current “unapproved” list before you head to check in your bags. The things we do now in the name of airline safety can get almost comical if the realities of why we must endure this weren’t so real. Off we go to check in . . .
After you've taken your shoes off and put your travel-size minoxidil in a little baggie (yeah like I would really use it), unpack the laptop and place things in the baskets while you still think flying makes you part of the elite . . . the "jet set" . . . well baggage handling & claims should shatter that myth.
Going into the airport your luggage is treated like a rare artifact from a lost civilization. Everyone wears gloves, it's constantly monitored, it's x-rayed, recorded and identified with a high-tech bar coded insignia . . .
. . . coming out, and it’s treated like garbage. TSA has taken their sweet time getting you through the security checkpoint but once you make your way past everything changes and you are quickly scolded to get things and move on . . . the flight or flights for many of us can be trying at best and more likely a grind of something to get through to either the adventure that awaits or the return to things familiar in our everyday existence.
There we are, after the flight like a bunch of rabid dogs, begging, waiting, positioning ourselves to make sure we get our underwear and stolen hotel towels back safely.
But that's when the real fun begins. I don't know whether it's the 6 hours of re-circulated air, the copious tiny bottles of airplane booze you pay for now or the jet lag, but something activates the idiot gene before we get to baggage claim. People eye every bag that looks remotely like theirs because, you know . . . that broken handle might have re-grown on your bag during the flight. Maybe your green bag really does look pink in this light. Maybe you did put a NASCAR patch on your suitcase and just don't remember it.
I saw one woman actually pull a bag over, open one of the compartments and poke inside to make sure it was hers . . . and it wasn't. What does she do if she can't find her date at the movies? ("Wow, that is huge . . .I must be in the wrong row.")
Oh and there's this little gem: One of the carousels I recently saw had a monitor on top where they announce when the precious cargo from your flight has been dragged out of the puddles on the tarmac and thrown onto the baggage conveyor.
At the bottom of the monitor it said that after the display states that all luggage has been put out for your flight, please wait ten minutes.
Um, why? I mean, if the airline isn't sure that all of the luggage has been put out, well, here's an idea: how about they wait ten minutes before changing the sign?
I doubt they change the display to say that the plane has landed while it's still circling the runway. There's no need to estimate when they think all the luggage is on the carousel . . . go ahead and give it a minute and be sure. I mean, the people waiting at the carousel don't even know what time it is, they just paid $6 for a coffee, and they think their golf clubs might be in that large purse . . . how the hell are they supposed to know when 10 minutes is up after spending the last 19 hours going from point A to point B?
Anyway, I gotta go now before that lady breaks my windshield just to see if it's her car in long term parking . . . it could be as they are both blue.
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