The Air Canada agent announced that the flight to Calgary was full, and naturally, couldn’t accommodate all passengers and their carry-on luggage. Passengers, much like myself, rarely check their bags nowadays as a protest against absurd fees. Instead, they bring more than the allotted two items on the plane–one of which is clearly an oversized carry-on. Anyway, in that moment, I thought that it was my moral obligation to volunteer to check my carry-on free of charge. Well, apparently I didn’t factor in the fact that free service and altruism would fuck me over.
The agent assured me that my trustworthy burgundy carry-on would meet me at my final destination, Vancouver, although I had a connecting flight in Calgary. Upon landing in Vancouver, I made my way to baggage claim ecstatic to be reunited with Reba (not to be confused with the sitcom or the singer). To my dismay, Reba was nowhere in sight. I started asking myself a million questions. Did Reba stand me up? Was Reba OK? Would I ever see Reba again? I’m afraid the answer to that last question is no. Reba is lost somewhere between Toronto, Calgary, and Vancouver. Normally, I’m not one to lament over the loss of things, but Reba has my favourite Aldo grey pair ankle heeled booties and my Gucci-esque floral blouse from G.H. Bass & Co. I want those back, Reba!!!
The agent at baggage claim services assured me that Reba would be on the next flight to Vancouver from Calgary, and that she’d meet me at my hotel at around 8pm. I gave Reba the benefit of the doubt and waited ten minutes past 8 before I called Air Canada. They told me Reba was still missing. They told me I shouldn’t expect to see her tonight. They told me that I’d be compensated $50 daily for expenses on clothes and toiletries throughout her absence. (I later found out that it’s only $50 within the first 24 hours which I believe to be absolutely ludicrous. What the hell is one supposed to buy–half a sweater?) By the time I had gotten through to customer service and finished being frantic on the phone, it was 8:25pm. The mall was closing in 35 minutes, but, of course, my hotel wasn’t located near the mall. I did what a sane person would do in that moment; I ran to the nearest grocery store to buy a toothbrush and toothpaste.
Taking a shower didn’t make me feel clean; I still felt disgusting, grimy, dirty, and smelled like yesterday. I felt like I was doing the walk of shame by showing up to work in yesterday’s clothes. I’m forever grateful to consumerism and capitalism for turning the Christmas season into sales season. You’ll find a list below of purchases that I deemed essential:
- One pair of socks from Hudson’s Bay (not pictured)
- One bralette: Aerie (exact)
- Three-pack underwear from La Senza (definitely not pictured–you pervert!)
- One pair of heather grey girlfriend pants: GAP (exact)
- One cream mockneck sweater: GAP (exact)
- One grey ribbed mockneck from H&M’s Conscious Collection: GAP (similar), H&M (similar)
- One pinstripe button-down: H&M (exact)
- Herschel duffle bag: Little Burgundy (exact)
I knew that I could wear a variation of the above, which would be work appropriate and decently warm. I even had to purchase a duffle bag since my backpack could only hold so much. Through these trials and tribulations, I realized that a) I was able to be more creative and strategic when shopping for clothes, b) Air Canada is useless and actually doesn’t track your luggage, and c) Never, EVER, volunteer to check in your carry-on regardless if the flight is full.