© 2025, All rights reserved -- mimaster
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There's nothing quite like standing at the luggage carousel of an airport, waiting for your bags to arrive. The scene is the same everywhere. People craning their necks, looking... hoping... praying that the items they gave the airline will actually show up on that magical moving belt. It's a little like Russian roulette. Someone's going to get the bullet in the chamber, and their bags aren't going to be there. The morbid among us wait until the very end to see the lifeless corpses drag themselves to the Customer Service Desk to make their desperate plea, which is almost always followed by a period of desperation and mourning for the luggage that was lost.
Normally on a trip as short in duration as I was taking, I wouldn't even be near the carousels. I would have just carried on everything I needed and been well on my way to the rental car agency of my choosing. But I was traveling with Tina, so I stood there with the rest of the mob, waiting.
It really is amusing to watch people react in the baggage claim area. First, just watching them wait impatiently for the belts to start moving; and once they do, their immediate excitement of that moment, which is quickly followed by the utter disappointment they feel as it snakes along, inching forward while it remains empty. Then a rogue, random bag comes through the opening, and everyone gets needlessly excited, because there's just the one. Sure, another follows eventually, but they are sporadic and random.
I've often wondered what happens on the other end, where the workers are putting the bags onto the belt. Did they take some kind of class in mental torture, or are they just eating sandwiches and talking while they occasionally throw a bag or a suitcase onto the belt?
After fifteen minutes of waiting and watching the assortment of luggage go by, we finally had ours and we were on our way to get a car. The chamber was empty for us, and we spun it and handed that proverbial gun to the next passenger/victim. We didn't wait to see who got the bullet, but as we walked away I listened and wondered if the imaginary pistol was about to go off.
Flying into Dulles, we had already taken their odd shuttle system from the infield terminal to the main one. Once we had our bags, we had to take a shuttle bus to the nearby facilities that rent cars. The whole experience was like an abridged version of
Planes, Trains and Automobiles
on fast forward.
We waited patiently in line again. I was patient, anyway. Tina was wired, shifting her weight back and forth from foot to foot. She continued to clutch to her cup of iced cum, sipping away in front of people that must have wondered what it was she was actually drinking. The perverseness of it brought a smile to her face every time she lifted the cup to her full lips. I'm not sure if she was doing it for herself or for me, but watching her do it and knowing she wasn't wearing panties under her short miniskirt was keeping me wired in a different way.
Finally, we made it to the front of the line, and were pointed at by a lovely redheaded woman behind the counter. Her nametag said Rita, and her tanned smile was like a warm and inviting embrace.
"May I help who's next, please," came her call as she bent her index finger, motioning us to come towards her. They were words I thought we'd never hear.
"I have a reservation," I said, hoping it was true. I hadn't made the arrangements. The company I was interviewing with had made all the travel details, including airlines, rental car and hotel. I'd never traveled before without doing all that myself, so I was a little apprehensive, worried that somehow there'd be a mix-up and I'd have to deal with a problem. Or worse, pay my own way and fight to get reimbursed.
Rita heard the inflection of my statement. "That sounded more like a question. Let's see if we can calm your fears, sweetie. Name please?"
"Neil Thomas."
"Ah, Mr. Thomas. We've been expecting you," she said, her smile widening.
I looked at Tina, who shrugged her shoulders. Neither of us knew what that comment meant, and Rita didn't elaborate. It seemed a little odd, but I filed it away that it was just her way of making me feel more comfortable.
Rita checked her files, and pulled out a completed packet ready to go. Opening the file folder, she smiled and said, "We had you listed for a mid-sized sedan, but I see here that you've been given a free upgrade. I'll have them bring it to the front for you."
"A free upgrade? Why?"
"I'm really not sure Mr. Thomas. I suppose it's because you're handsome and debonair. But I can promise you... this car certainly suits your style better. I'll just be a moment."
I looked at Tina once more, who shrugged again and took a sip with a smile. She batted her eyes, and I was lost in them as Rita called on a walkie talkie to have our car brought to us. I'd never had that happen before either. I'd always taken the keys and had to trudge out to the lot to find my own ride. This one was being driven to us like I was a VIP member.
Moments later, a young attendant drove in front of the building and parked a new IROC Camaro convertible. It was black on black, and when he lowered the roof before he got out, I was stunned beyond belief.
"There's your vehicle, Mr. Thomas. Here's your paperwork. You're all set. Have a great day."
"Are you sure that car is for us?" I said, still a little shocked.
"Yes sir. Like I said, it seems to suit your style. It's perfect for a man like you. A map to your hotel is in your dossier, along with maps for your trip tomorrow. Have a great time." She handed me a file folder full of the paperwork, and I smiled. It was the best customer service I'd ever received from a rental car experience.
"Cool," Tina said as we walked to the car, the first words she'd spoken since we'd walked into the place.
The attendant put our luggage in the trunk for us and handed me the keys. She opened the file, which was organized very professionally. The map to the hotel we would be staying at was on top. I fired up the V8, and we pulled out. It was a bright sunny late afternoon in DC, and having a convertible was suddenly a nice bonus.
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We made our way to the hotel, which was about thirty minutes from the airport. The drive was nice, and Tina loved it as much as I did.
"I can't believe they gave us this car, Neil. This must be a pretty impressive company you're interviewing with."
"I'm not sure it was the company. She said it was a free upgrade... but that doesn't make any sense. Why would they do that? Not that I'm arguing. This is a sweet ride!"
I pulled into the Sheraton we would be staying at, and drove under the awning. I asked Tina if she wanted to stay, but she said she wanted to get out and stretch her legs. So, I put the top up and opened the door for her. As we walked together though the lobby, I noticed a stunning young brunette working the desk, and she smiled as we approached her.
"Are there any guys that work in this world," I said to myself, thinking about how I always seemed to be dealing with one wonderfully attractive woman after another. I knew there had to be, somewhere. They were out there, but I was in a zone where it seemed everyone I interacted with was female and gorgeous. I wasn't complaining, but it did seem odd.
"Good afternoon, Sir."
Reading her nametag, I said "Good Afternoon, Tammy. We have some reservations, under the name Thomas."
She lit up, smiling wide like she'd just seen an old friend. "Yes, Sir. We've been expecting you. Just a moment."
Tammy walked away, and Tina quickly said, "Why does everyone keep saying they're expecting us?"
In reality, it had only been two people, but I got her point. It was two people in a row. I could only chalk it up to my interview. Maybe they were trucking a lot of people in for the job. My heart sank a little, thinking I might be up against the world for a job I was already having misgivings about being under qualified for. I didn't need the added aggravation of worrying about my competition, when I was already worried enough just about the interview itself. I could feel myself getting uptight as I stood there.
When Tammy came back, she was carrying two boxes, placing them on the counter in front of her. I looked at Tina, who gave me her now familiar shoulder shrug. Tammy just left them there, and rummaged through her files, pulling out some paperwork and setting it on the countertop for me to review.
"Just sign here for the room, Mr. Thomas."
I looked at the paperwork, and I could tell that the original document had been altered. I looked at Tammy, who smiled.
"What's going on?" I asked.
