Hell of a Guy

Another Chicago Trip


Just about a year ago I wrote of a trip to Chicago; actually, a trip from Chicago back to my home in Beautiful Downtown Berkeley Springs, West Virginia, population 711.  That was a trip from hell.  It took nearly forty-six hours to get from Chicago to my house, and I flew.

Today, again, almost exactly one-year ago, I am back in Chicago and my trip has begun with a surmountable issue: I am here, my bag is not.

Now most of us that fly from time to time for business have been in this situation.  What with changing planes, perhaps rushing from a late arrival to an on-time departure, bags sometimes do not get loaded.  Today’s incident has me somewhat baffled, in that I only took one plane – Washington-Dulles to Chicago’s O’Hare.  How in the world does a bag not get on the plane when you only have one to get on?  This is one of life’s little conundrums.

The United people didn’t seem to be baffled by this at all.  It appeared to me the agent I spoke with took this as a ho-hum, everyday occurrence, and offered little more than a tough-shit attitude as she filled out a form, and telling me the bag will be delivered to my hotel sometime between 4 and 7 PM.  Thanks, but no thanks.  I will go back to the airport (just about a mile away) and retrieve my bag, hopefully, if the United not-so-smarts can get it on the later flight.  Keeping my chubby little fingers crossed, I remain hopeful.

All that is all I have to say about that…

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