Stickered Shocked
I am here in Cocoa Beach, Florida with the family. It feels bitterly cold to me, so much so that I had to go get winter clothing, something I do not possess. Thank gawd Ron Jon's has hoodies and long sleeved tees! It's in the 50s and 60s here, something the Weather Channel neglected to tell me and I am not acclimated since Tama is between 75 and 95 every single day. This feels cold.
The other thing I was getting at Ron Jon's was a huge buttload of their tacky advertising stickers. Why? We had a little tiny catastrophe on our way here. We changed planes in Atlanta from Costa Rica and someone accidentally took my suitcase.
There were ten identical suitcases on our flight from Liberia. Ten large Kenneth Cole Reaction hardshelled suitcases. All brand spanking new. I've mentioned before the expensive shopping and lack of quality in Costa Rica, so when Auto Mercado started their yearly stickers for stuff green stamps like program this year it was for suitcases, decent suitcase. With a full sticker book and about the same amount of cash that it costs for a not so nice suitcase at Walmart you could buy a few of these beauties. I did because TSA has ruined my nearly new turquoise cases I paid a mint for. Ripped out zippers, broken flaps, just torn to hell and back.
The only problems with these beautiful new cases is that they are black, solid unrelieved boring black, trendy black, dark noir black and so so so damn generic. When I got mine I issued out a sad sigh, not happy to be giving up my cheerful and unique pretty turquoise suitcases for the same thing as everyone else. Decided to transfer over my big turquoise, pink and white luggage tag. Tried futilely to get Jim to put something unique on his case, a strip of ribbon or a colorful luggage tag. Nothing doing. He went with zero tags.
The way it works when you fly into the United States from an international location without being at your end location is that when you land you go through immigration where they scan your passport and take your photo. In the days before Trump this was all accomplished quickly via self help kiosks. Now you have to wait in line, talk to a border agent face to face before you've allowed to go on.
The next phase is going into a small special baggage area, where the belt rolls and all the luggage from your flight arrives. You have to pick it up, walk over to the customs area and roll right on through.This is another thing that has changed drastically under Trump, now when you go through immigration they ask if you have illegal items. The customs desks are completely unmanned and you just cruise on through. Used to be you had to check in with customs where they would ask a lot of questions before deciding if they should search your bag.
The final step in the process is to roll your bag over to the last stop before going through TSA for domestic flights, handing the bag off to the ongoing flights luggage agents, who look at the final destination label and sent it on it's way.
This trip the customs part is what it went horribly horribly wrong. My large suitcase with the distinctive luggage tag on top, holding all of the Christmas gifts for my family, went missing. Jim's case, identical to mine, with nothing to differentiate it from the ten other cases, showed up. After thirty minutes or more of rushing around looking for my bag freaking out we found an abandoned case identical to mine, noted the guys name on the tag and it became pretty obvious what had happened. He'd grabbed my case and left his own. Simple stupid mistake, which is why I always read the tags when I pick up my cases because so many of them look just alike.
After a discouraging visit with Delta's baggage people, who said oh so unconcernedly, 'Oh, this happens many times a day!', a run across the airport to make our next flight, no stopping for a meal or any peeing we made our final flight. I was still pretty upset about my missing suitcase with Christmas gifts. Upon arriving in Orlando there was my suitcase, it made it! Gifts intact and all my too thin Costa Rican clothing in it.
So now we're coming up with Plan B. No more pretty tags. Instead a zillion travel stickers from everywhere we're going now. Starting with those ticky tacky surf shop stickers. I'm adding the Costa Rican ones I have that haven't been used, Volcano Brewing company, Pinky Guaro band, Get Your Mind Blow at Poas Volcano, you name it. Wherever I go now I'm getting a sticker and duly affixing it to my suitcase. If you cannot beat 'em, just tacky up your case enough to stand out in such a way as that others would be horrified to snatch it. I'm looking at you Dr. Zog's Sex Wax sticker....
The other thing I was getting at Ron Jon's was a huge buttload of their tacky advertising stickers. Why? We had a little tiny catastrophe on our way here. We changed planes in Atlanta from Costa Rica and someone accidentally took my suitcase.
There were ten identical suitcases on our flight from Liberia. Ten large Kenneth Cole Reaction hardshelled suitcases. All brand spanking new. I've mentioned before the expensive shopping and lack of quality in Costa Rica, so when Auto Mercado started their yearly stickers for stuff green stamps like program this year it was for suitcases, decent suitcase. With a full sticker book and about the same amount of cash that it costs for a not so nice suitcase at Walmart you could buy a few of these beauties. I did because TSA has ruined my nearly new turquoise cases I paid a mint for. Ripped out zippers, broken flaps, just torn to hell and back.
The only problems with these beautiful new cases is that they are black, solid unrelieved boring black, trendy black, dark noir black and so so so damn generic. When I got mine I issued out a sad sigh, not happy to be giving up my cheerful and unique pretty turquoise suitcases for the same thing as everyone else. Decided to transfer over my big turquoise, pink and white luggage tag. Tried futilely to get Jim to put something unique on his case, a strip of ribbon or a colorful luggage tag. Nothing doing. He went with zero tags.
The way it works when you fly into the United States from an international location without being at your end location is that when you land you go through immigration where they scan your passport and take your photo. In the days before Trump this was all accomplished quickly via self help kiosks. Now you have to wait in line, talk to a border agent face to face before you've allowed to go on.
The next phase is going into a small special baggage area, where the belt rolls and all the luggage from your flight arrives. You have to pick it up, walk over to the customs area and roll right on through.This is another thing that has changed drastically under Trump, now when you go through immigration they ask if you have illegal items. The customs desks are completely unmanned and you just cruise on through. Used to be you had to check in with customs where they would ask a lot of questions before deciding if they should search your bag.
The final step in the process is to roll your bag over to the last stop before going through TSA for domestic flights, handing the bag off to the ongoing flights luggage agents, who look at the final destination label and sent it on it's way.
This trip the customs part is what it went horribly horribly wrong. My large suitcase with the distinctive luggage tag on top, holding all of the Christmas gifts for my family, went missing. Jim's case, identical to mine, with nothing to differentiate it from the ten other cases, showed up. After thirty minutes or more of rushing around looking for my bag freaking out we found an abandoned case identical to mine, noted the guys name on the tag and it became pretty obvious what had happened. He'd grabbed my case and left his own. Simple stupid mistake, which is why I always read the tags when I pick up my cases because so many of them look just alike.
After a discouraging visit with Delta's baggage people, who said oh so unconcernedly, 'Oh, this happens many times a day!', a run across the airport to make our next flight, no stopping for a meal or any peeing we made our final flight. I was still pretty upset about my missing suitcase with Christmas gifts. Upon arriving in Orlando there was my suitcase, it made it! Gifts intact and all my too thin Costa Rican clothing in it.
So now we're coming up with Plan B. No more pretty tags. Instead a zillion travel stickers from everywhere we're going now. Starting with those ticky tacky surf shop stickers. I'm adding the Costa Rican ones I have that haven't been used, Volcano Brewing company, Pinky Guaro band, Get Your Mind Blow at Poas Volcano, you name it. Wherever I go now I'm getting a sticker and duly affixing it to my suitcase. If you cannot beat 'em, just tacky up your case enough to stand out in such a way as that others would be horrified to snatch it. I'm looking at you Dr. Zog's Sex Wax sticker....
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