The Zipper Incident: Notes From the Sky

PERSONAL REFLECTIONS

A Day in My Life

When I travel, I refuse, genuinely refuse, to check a bag. It just makes life easier.

There's also a practical reason. If you've ever wondered what an escort's suitcase looks like, I'll save you the curiosity: it's not something you want baggage handlers rifling through.

So everything always goes in a carry-on.

Famous Last Words

A client had flown me out for the weekend. After a warm goodbye, I gathered my belongings so I could head to the airport.

So I did what I always do: packed everything into my Weekender duffle bag. The bottom compartment, the one designed for shoes, became the designated area for my naughty items and lingerie. I Tetris'd every last one of them in there as I zipped it up.

Rushing is never a good idea for me. But everything was fine. Everything was completely fine… right?

The Gate

My group was called so I picked up my carry-on and slung it over my shoulder. I stepped forward to board when the zipper snapped open and gave out entirely… in the most dramatic way.

I gasped.

Everything in that bottom compartment was now scattered across the airport floor. In front of the people still seated outside the gate waiting for their group. In front of everyone.

My bottle of massage oil went rolling 10 feet away and my bra flew onto someone’s boot.

The man in front of me started helping me collect everything off the floor. He gathered what he could, handed it back to me with a completely straight face, and said, "Let me guess what your favorite color is." Then he chuckled and turned back around like nothing had happened.

That one comment was all it took to make the whole situation feel survivable.

For the record, yes, everything was various shades of pink. The items, the lingerie, the duffle bag, everything.

I collected the rest of my belongings, stepped out of the line, found a plastic bag at one of the airport shops, packed everything in, tossed the broken bottom compartment in the bin, and got back in line to board.

Glad that’s over!

The Aftermath

There will always be those slightly unfortunate moments in life. And that's okay. The alternative is a life where nothing interesting happens, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

That carry-on has since been retired. And this is one of those stories I now tell my girlfriends at dinner.

Whoever you are, gate 14B: thank you.

This didn't happen all that long ago, by the way.