Ugly Floral Duct-Taped Baggage

I'm standing in the departure terminal trying to figure out what plane I'm going to catch. The flights keep popping up; but I haven't made up my mind where I want to go. Maybe some rogue traveller will want to go with me? I look down at my baggage; slightly embarrassed. It's old, floral, awkward, and falling apart. Some areas of the fabric have been duct-taped together. It's a sight for soar eyes. But it's my baggage.

Maybe I should look for someone who has the same baggage? But I've never really met a guy who carries around floral duct-taped baggage. If only I could get rid of it and have nice shiny Louis Vuitton baggage -- but I can't; at least, not at the moment. And this is the moment I want to take off -- so, like it or not, I have to stick with my baggage and hope for the best.

I take a seat on one of the benches and start to watch all the men walk by. It's interesting. When you start to look at the baggage and not the men, you see a whole different person. A cute boy walks by; but he doesn't notice me -- or a few yards back he noticed my glaringly ugly floral duct-taped baggage and decided against making eye contact. His baggage is nice and neat. One of those standard airline approved black carry-ons. It's simple. I wish I had his baggage.

Another guy walks buy. His over sized backpack is dirty and torn. Things from his past are spilling out; an arm of an ex-girlfriend, a screaming mother. He notices my nice floral duct-taped baggage and smiles at me. He's cute. Funny. But because I can't help but notice his stinky baggage I avert my eyes, and eventually he goes away.

A girl walks by with Louis Vuitton baggage. I want to tackle her, and run away with it. I bet she's going to somewhere exotic like Bora Bora.

A flock of stewardesses usher their way down the terminal. Their heels click on the tiles. Each of them has the same regulation baggage but some of them have duct-tape on theirs. We smile at each other as they pass; we duct-tape girls have something in common. They look at me as if to say; don't worry, I have ugly floral baggage at home too.

Other men walk by. The baggage ranges really. I'm not sure if the guy with the Sesame Street baggage matches mine or not. We talk for a bit -- but it doesn't seem like a good fit. Then there's the cute guy with the trunk. He drags it heavily down the terminal. It leaves scratches in the floor. He seems nice enough, but I don't even want to know what he's carrying around. It makes him wince and sweat to maneuver it. So, I think, this one is better left to themselves.

I take a break from my people watching and go to get a coffee. I leave my ugly baggage at the bench because I'm pretty certain that no one will take it; and if they did, I would be grateful. I stand in line and wait to order. A really cute guy stands behind me. I can tell he's cute before I even turn around. I can smell how cute he is. I turn; sure enough - he's adorable. Tall, nice eyes, a big smile. I look down at his feet to see what he's carrying around. A decent piece of luggage. Mid-sized. No duct-tape. No tears. It's red. I smell to see if there are any foul smells coming from inside the baggage. He doesn't seem to mind, in fact, I think he likes that I'm being pre-selective.

There are no smells, so I let the idle chit-chat continue while we wait in line to order our coffee. He tells me his name. I tell him mine. I figure what's the harm in talking? I'll bow out after I get my coffee because my baggage doesn't match his. But, for this moment, I want to enjoy the conversation with a nice guy with nice baggage. I order my coffee and turn to leave. He tells me to wait...I do so against my better judgement. It's nice to be talking to someone with nice baggage. He doesn't make this exchange more complicated than it needs to be. I figure I'll say my polite goodbyes in a minute or two; but for now, I still want to chat with him. While he's ordering I listen to make sure there are no screams coming from his nice neat baggage. I strain to hear even the faintest of whispers, but I don't hear anything.

I look back at him and smile. I've been sitting in the airport for a while; so it's nice to know that there are guys out there who have nice baggage. I'm just grateful that I left my ugly baggage at the bench. It's nice to have an uncomplicated conversation -- even if it's only for a few minutes.

He takes out his wallet to pay for his coffee and I smile. It has a floral pattern and is held together by electric tape. It doesn't scare me, because I kinda get why he has it. So, when he asks me if he can walk me back to my baggage I decide that it's ok -- because I think that maybe this guy is cool enough to like me despite my ugly floral duct-taped baggage...especially when I'm working really hard to have Louis Vuitton one day.