Back in the olden days, when I had a real job and traveled nearly 50% of the time for work, I found myself urgently needing a new suitcase – the day before I was scheduled to leave on a 2-week trip to Japan, the zipper ripped out of my trusty old soft-sided suitcase. So, in a fit of desperation, I headed to the local mall.
In one of the big department stores, I saw it. The perfect suitcase. Large. Hard-sided. A nice understated black. Samsonite. On sale (!!!). Two side latches and a main latch with a combination lock. Yes! Just what I wanted. I pulled it down off the shelf, undid the side latches (which have a nice little slide lock that keeps them coming open accidentally), flipped the main lock… nothing. Locked. Locked?!? I made sure the combo was set to “0-0-0”, tried it again… nothing. Locked. Crap.
Okay, they must have another one. I looked around. Errr. None were in sight. I finally flagged down a saleslady. Nope, no more in the back either. I asked her if she knew the combination. Ha! That is why it was on sale.
But I wanted this suitcase. I needed this suitcase. So I started to think to myself “what would someone who would do something so juvenile as resetting the combo lock on a suitcase that was not their own set it to?” A-ha! I entered three numbers, flicked the latch and, ta-dum!, it opened. What where those numbers? 6-6-6.
I took the suitcase over to the saleslady, who told me again it was locked. I told her I wanted to buy it anyway. Got it home, reset the combination (I’m not terribly superstitious, but really wouldn’t you?), packed the suitcase full of clothes and shoes, and went off on my trip.
It has been nearly 10 years since I bought that suitcase and it is still going strong. RWT just took it on a trip around the world. It followed him home by a week, but I knew in my heart that it would eventually find its way back to me. My devil suitcase.
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