bad baggage

We were late- that much I knew.

A stewardess calmly told us on our way into Sydney that we had been changed to a flight at 11.30 am instead on 9.50am.

Cool. Easy. No Problem.

Nice and organised like.

We got off the plane at 9.50am.

There were speakers all over the airport speaking.

'Hadley.' They said. 'Hey.' They said.

'Get on the plane.' Basically.

We calmly walked to the travel desk to ask our questions.

'Yeah, we've just arrived about 5 minutes ago.' I said. 'They told us we had been transferred to a later flight.' I was worried about loose baggage and all that.

A middle aged man of a woman with similar loose baggage grumbled at everyone- no clear answer to be had. I told her we had heard our names on the speakers .

She glared.

'Then i suggest you run Boys.'  she said levelled and cold.

'But' i wanted to ask about loose baggage.

'I suggest you get running Boys.' she said louder.

We turned in confusion and with an unwillingness to face her fury. We walked casually away.

She had forgotten about all others.

'Why aren't you running Boys?' She shouted after us.

'I can't see you running Boys!' she screamed.

We ran from her malignance and spite like people on fire.

'RUN BOYS! RUUUUUUN!' She was really bawling it. 'RAAAAAAAN!' All colours and creeds turned from souveineer shops and cafes to stare freightened at the saggy demon. The sound chased us down like a pack of hungting dogs, seeking to tear us apart.

We got on the bloody plane 5 minutes after we got off the last one. We had somehow skipped all forms of passport, dangerous items and immigration checks and RUN about a mile of airport corridor. They just chucked us in.

I was still worried about loose luggage.

We arrived in Christchurch New Zealand and waited for our bags for an hour or so before enquiring.

They baggage was not there.

The baggage was loose somewhere in Sydney.