Somewhere between my car and the airport security screening checkpoint today, a small bag containing my 500PF detached itself from the hook on my rolling bag. Since it was much lighter than the other bag that was piggybacked on the wheeled suitcase, and the entire rig was well-balanced, I did not feel it detach.
I quickly retraced my steps back to the car, which included an escalator, a moving walkway across a pedestrian bridge, a trek across the parking deck and an elevator ride. Nothing.
Racing back to the terminal with elevated heart rate and beads of perspiration forming, I considered with great regret my decision not to insure my gear. I inquired with various people along the way, but no one had seen a thing. I simultaneously considered whether the loss of salary that I would incur if I didn’t report to my work assignment would be worth it compared to the value of the 500PF. A quick trip up the escalator to see if anyone had turned it in to security was my next attempt. Nothing.
Nearly flattening a dozen passengers on the way down the two sets of escalators to baggage claim, I burst into an airline baggage service counter and breathlessly asked if anyone had turned in a lost bag in the last ten minutes or so. The agent said that a lady tried to give him a small bag, but the airline cannot accept a lost item. Apparently the losing of baggage is a one-way process. However, the agent furnished a description of the person who tried to give him the bag, and pointed me in the direction she had departed. Sensing the gravity of the matter, he tried to follow to assist my search for her, but really never had any hope of keeping up with me. I was very nearly sprinting at this point.
Three baggage claim areas away, I spotted a woman fitting his description holding my bag up high above the crowds for all to see. Fully prepared to participate in a bidding war to purchase it in the impromptu auction (funny how the imagination wanders at times like this), I instead waved my arms and said, “Thank you, that’s my bag!” Without hesitation she handed it to me. A quick peek revealed that the lens was still inside. She smiled and started to walk away, but I stopped her and asked if I could give her something. She didn’t immediately say no, so before she could, I pressed a twenty dollar bill in her hand and resisted the urge to give her a big hug.
Whew!
I quickly retraced my steps back to the car, which included an escalator, a moving walkway across a pedestrian bridge, a trek across the parking deck and an elevator ride. Nothing.
Racing back to the terminal with elevated heart rate and beads of perspiration forming, I considered with great regret my decision not to insure my gear. I inquired with various people along the way, but no one had seen a thing. I simultaneously considered whether the loss of salary that I would incur if I didn’t report to my work assignment would be worth it compared to the value of the 500PF. A quick trip up the escalator to see if anyone had turned it in to security was my next attempt. Nothing.
Nearly flattening a dozen passengers on the way down the two sets of escalators to baggage claim, I burst into an airline baggage service counter and breathlessly asked if anyone had turned in a lost bag in the last ten minutes or so. The agent said that a lady tried to give him a small bag, but the airline cannot accept a lost item. Apparently the losing of baggage is a one-way process. However, the agent furnished a description of the person who tried to give him the bag, and pointed me in the direction she had departed. Sensing the gravity of the matter, he tried to follow to assist my search for her, but really never had any hope of keeping up with me. I was very nearly sprinting at this point.
Three baggage claim areas away, I spotted a woman fitting his description holding my bag up high above the crowds for all to see. Fully prepared to participate in a bidding war to purchase it in the impromptu auction (funny how the imagination wanders at times like this), I instead waved my arms and said, “Thank you, that’s my bag!” Without hesitation she handed it to me. A quick peek revealed that the lens was still inside. She smiled and started to walk away, but I stopped her and asked if I could give her something. She didn’t immediately say no, so before she could, I pressed a twenty dollar bill in her hand and resisted the urge to give her a big hug.
Whew!