Baggage Blues

I'm back from holiday, but my suitcase isn't.

It's the second time that's happened to me this year.

The first time, the carousel kept going and going, promising something it never delivered, as I stood there vaguely transfixed, like a puppy which had lost its toilet roll.

Over the weekend, though, it just stopped - which at least broke the news more quickly and cleanly; it was cruel, but probably kinder.

As an experience, it's a bit like going on the Generation Game, only to discover that the conveyor belt is completely bare. Not even a cuddly toy has been saved for you, never mind the state of the art stereo, or the trip to Mauritius, although, of course, if I won an exotic holiday, my bag would just go missing again.

So I've been buying a few things to keep me going - a toothbrush and toothpaste, and some new boxer shorts. The only ones I had clean were about ten years old, when I was a little slimmer. They held my gut in a bit, which was a reasonable reason to keep wearing them, but the funny walk was a much better reason to take them off.

(PS: Since I wrote the above, the case has turned up, which means I now have to start the holiday washing. So even getting your luggage back has its down side...)