I’m a notoriously light packer. Depending on who you ask, this is because I’m either incredibly efficient or incredibly forgetful. I prefer “incredibly efficient,” but let’s face it: deodorant and toothpaste and changes of clothes have a way of not making it into my suitcase.
On my most recent adventure, I decided to maximize my efficiency by not checking any baggage. Instead, I stole borrowed a cute little striped rolly-bag from Juanita.
I’d never stolen used this particular bag, and took great pains to ensure it was an acceptable carry-on item (I even broke out a damn tape measure, for crying out loud!). Even though Juanita swears she’d put it in an overhead bin before, I still fretted that I’d end up having to check it at the gate.
I was giving ol’ Stripey (alternate name: Piece of Shit with a Zip Tie Where The Zipper Pull Used To Be) a pep talk (“Now, now, Stripey. If we get separated, we’ll meet up on the jet bridge when I land”) at the gate when I look over and spy this mofo, traveling alone with what I can only assume are all his worldly possessions:
It’s none of this fancy Instagram shit, but I’m sure you can tell in the pic that this jackhole has got three – count ’em up: one, two, three! – carryon items, and those were some big-ass duffel bags he was hauling around.
Now before you’re all like “Okay, Miss Goody Two Chucks, look at you following the rules, you fucking sheep” I’m going to remind you two things a) fuck you and b) I’m all for rule-breaking, but not when it fucks everyone else over. Some rules live in an arbitrary existence (like stop signs at 4:00 am). Others were made for actual reasons (like, hey: no one else will be able to bring any luggage on the plane because some chuck-bucket decided to bring his own pillow…and perhaps blanket…and maybe the matching duvet…on board the aircraft).
Though I suppose I’d rather get beaned by a duffel bag full of dust ruffle that’s Shifted In Flight than one of those plastic-looking jobs that look like Barbie accessories.
*Please refrain from pointing out my unreasonableness. You thinking that I’m actually irate and 100% serious really ruins it for the rest of us, ya know?
the sloppy copy 