I am going to blame TSA for 50% of this most memorable travel story and blame the other 50% on my carelessness, forgetfulness, constant zoning out, and hyper-focusing on non-present realities.
I was in the Denver Airport going through security when the man next to me was in an evident and obnoxious hurry. He kept touching my bins and pushing them along. I became a little flustered because, on my last flight, the man next to my husband in the TSA line had his wallet stolen from his security bin. So I hurried up, put my shoes on, grabbed my coat and scarf, threw my computer in my backpack, and headed down the stairs to the plane train.
I got off the train, took a pit stop, and headed to my gate. As soon as I walked out of the bathroom, I realized I was missing my carry-on suitcase!
I stood there for a moment, in shock, as the fact that I had left my suitcase on the plane train sunk in. I ran down the stairs in a panic and jumped back on the plane train. When the suitcase wasn’t in the spot where I thought I had left it, I realized how many train cars there must be. Standing, I began to panic further as I realized how impossible it would be to find this bag. Correction-I would never find it.
I knew that I got off at concourse B and the last stop on the plane train was concourse C. Thinking someone could have dropped off the bag in concourse C, lost and found, I dashed back on the train and rode it to C. I ran up the stairs, profusely sweating, trying not to panic. It was difficult not to when I knew what I had placed in that bag. As I frantically looked around, I saw a pilot about to get off a phone call. I hastily walked up to him and said, “hello.” Then I began crying as I whimpered, “I left my bag on the plane train. It has all my jewelry in it and my new iPhone 14. I don’t know where to go, and I don’t think I will ever find it.”
This pilot was so kind to me, even though he probably thought I was the most ridiculous person he had ever met (#travelbratforlife). He brought me to the concourse kiosk, and I told the man sitting there about my unfortunate situation. He nearly giggled when he asked for a description, and I told him it was a “Leopard Cavali” mini suitcase. He called the gate B lost and found, and they had nothing. He then asked me if I thought I could have left it at security. I could not remember, but I told him it was a possibility.
I practically climbed over the desk to put my ear next to the phone when I heard him say, “you do?”
I had somehow managed to leave my bag in security. I ran back down the stairs, back onto the plane train, got on, and then realized I had no idea how to get back to security without going all the way through it again. So I got off at a different gate, ran back up the stairs, and asked the gate A kiosk lady how to get to security.
I finally got back on the plane train and returned to security. The TSA rep told me she took it off the belt to check it, but they “did not know where I was. It was bizarre because I had placed the suitcase right in front of all my belongings. They also did not grab it in front of me and tell me they needed to check it.
The TSA lady began to check my bag, and as she sifted through it, I began to explain that the sketchy objects could be the unopened iPhone box or the sunglass base full of jewelry. She proceeded to look through the bag and found… my styling mousse and hairspray.
What a day with TSA.
