Friday, January 4, 2008

Dramatic Bag Checkatics

Really, what is so hard to understand about a check-your-bag-at-the-door policy? You go in, you pay money, bag does not go in.

Why? They ask.

People steal things, we explain.

I'll have it with me, it'll be safer what. They protest.

Um, this is actually to stop YOU from stealing shit, we don't say.

We aren't going to take your stuff, we say.

I kid you not, about 5 different people implied that we would steal their shit.

As if, my cousin scoffs, so ugly, why would we take it? But not to them, obviously.

What if I come back, and my handphone and money is missing? One woman asked. Gutsy. Also rude.

Well, you'll know it was one of us and you can tell our boss, I replied. Rather calmly.

Is it really that terrible to give up $2 and not have to carry these massive bags around?

Then, the bag return part. More drama ensues.

One can't find her tag. My cousin finds it on the dance floor, or something.

Where's my bag? Another girl half shrieks to her boyfriend.

It's there. Don't worry.

What happens if I can't find my tag? She asks me, lip trembling.

There's a $20 fine.

Oh, okay. If someone tries to get it, and it's not me, don't give it to them!

Which bag is it?

The Coach one.


A woman gives me her tag. Not a woman. THE woman.

I give her her bag.

Are you sure you don't want to check that everything is there? I don't think she heard me.

My cousin did. She jabs me with her elbow.


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