Lost and Found at MIA

This week I have two imperfect stories to share:  one about choosing to opt out of dating apps, and one personal story about working through depression. But first, a question inspired by my own wild and crazy life:

Have you ever lost luggage while flying?

I've had delayed bags plenty of times, but never fully lost. Until last week, when I thought I might finally break that streak. Spoiler: the bag turned up, and the story of how feels to me like a very Miami experience.

My hometown airport is Miami International. If you've flown through MIA, you know the most accurate description is chaotic. It's big, loud, and busy, with a dozen languages happening around you at any given moment. I have never personally heard anybody describe it as efficient.

While the bag was missing, I called the baggage claim team every day. Sometimes twice. They kept asking what was inside, and I told them. I also pointed out that there were multiple tags with my phone number and email on the outside of the bag. They did not seem impressed by this information.

After eight days and approximately one million phone calls, I got a voicemail. In Spanish. Not from the airline but from an airport employee.

Do I speak Spanish? Some. I'm not fluent, but after 30 years in Miami it's genuinely useful. Still, I almost ignored the message. I get a lot of telemarketer calls in Spanish.  I think this is because my phone number has a Miami area code. I nearly assumed that's what this was. Luckily, I listened. Luckier still, I understood enough to realize it was an airport employee calling.

So I called back. This conversation did not start promisingly. I gave the person who answered the information from the voicemail, and they had no idea who had called me or anything about my bag. Please hold while I transfer you. 

But then, after being transferred more times than I could count, a wonderful person on the other end of the phone suddenly said, "Oh yes, Maria called you. We have your bag right here." I gave them the original flight information, and they delivered it.

Here's the thing: MIA is the airport code for Miami International Airport. It's also the abbreviation for Missing In Action.

My bag was MIA in MIA.

Apparently, the claim tag had gotten ripped off. I know…I know… I should put air tags in checked bags. Lesson learned. Somehow though, against the odds, it worked out. 

Hit reply and share your worst or most irritating lost luggage story.

Thank you LiziKipp for these kind words about the interview with Toni Will.

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Last week I asked if you had your own stories of random conversations with strangers and your stories did NOT disappoint.

Helen shared that she talked with a Monk on a train about Pole dancing and pole fitness classes. Leisa shared that she once shared a flight with a person who overshared personal stories through the flight but that’s not all on the very same flight was a man dressed in a wetsuit and no shoes being accompanied by police officers. That’s a crazy story … it should be a scene in a movie or something.

Thank you for sharing. 😁

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