Baggage - Friday, Aug 14 2009
So I’m in Puerto Rico for my friend Luis’s wedding. And I’m so excited!
Right now, I’m lounging on the cushy bed with the balcony doors thrown open to let in the heavenly sunshine and the sound of the crashing shore, with the occasional squawk of some brightly colored bird.
In the same clothes I was in 27 hours ago.
Yes. They lost my luggage.
But somehow, that has made it more of an adventure. Sure, I can’t wear these white linen lounge pants and old navy tshirt to the wedding, so I may have to dash to PLAZAS AMERICANAS- the largest mall in the Caribbean to procure another dress to wear, but so be it.
I’m here. Not at work. And there are good people. And sand. And sunshine. and rum.
I feel like its much more piratical this way. When you were stranded on a deserted island after your crew mutinied against you, they didn’t toss you a suitcase to keep you well stocked. You had the clothes on your back and your guts to survive. And maybe a pistol with a single shot or a sword, (alas, I couldn’t carry these on. commies.)
Basically, I feel like a badass pirate because I’m surviving on the hotel’s free sample shampoos and the $7 resort deodorant I impulse bought.
wait.
that was just the bellman calling.
my suitcase is here.
THANK YOU DAVY JONES, FOR SENDING ME BACK MY THINGS FROM THE DEPTHS OF YOUR LOCKER.
xoxox,
Cap’n Mags
