Some World Traveler…

I’m by no means an amateur traveler. I rode my first plane when I was one, and I rode my first plane solo when I was 11. It came as somewhat of a surprise that yesterday I pulled a fatal, rookie travel blunder. I flew from Boston to Buffalo to spend Thanksgiving with my boyfriend’s family. After take-off, I looked down and noticed that my bag had tipped over and my notebook had slipped out. Oh, I thought, and that’s all I thought. Six hours later, after hellos and hugs and dinner and after-dinner and dessert, I look for my wallet and start panicking. Yup, it’s not here. It must’ve fallen out on the plane. We call the airport and the airlines and get in touch with the Baggage Service Office. Long story short, they found it, they have it, can we come and pick it up tonight? Yes, absolutely. My boyfriend and his brother went back to the airport to get it. He called me on the way home, “I’ve got your wallet. Now, you have your passport, right?” “Psh,” I said, “Of course I have my passport. It’s right…um…yeah…crap.” “I have your passport.”

I am so embarrassed, you don’t even understand. “Don’t worry, everybody loses stuff,” they comforted me. I don’t! From now on, I’m being doubly paranoid when I travel. I throw caution to the wind and look what happens! I hope my parents don’t read this.


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