(Orig. posted 7/23/08) Piedmont Triad Intl. Airport threatened to "destroy" my luggage.

True story.

I arrived at PTI on Tuesday exactly 28 minutes before my flight was scheduled to depart. Cutting it close? Indeed. There was a traffic jam at the Forsyth/Guilford county line on 40. But because of lower traveler volume, the security at PTI is quick.

However, the Delta rep refused to check my bags. Why? After 30 minutes before departure, no more checking bags.

Even after I pleaded it was my best friend's wedding, even after pleading I'd only missed the departure window by 2 minutes, no dice on the luggage.

So I then did what any quick-thinking best man-to-be would do.

I crammed as many clothes as I could into my bookbag and left my suitcase

(and toiletry items)

(and golf clubs)

underneath a waiting area bench.

After clearing security, I called my mom and 1) sheepishly explained what had just happened; and 2) beseeched her to come pick up my bags. Bless her, she agreed. I'm 27 and she's still willing to bail me out of jams. Gotta love her.

During my layover in Atlanta, my phone rang.

"Hey mom. Any problems getting my bags?"

Her response: "Listen. You're in big trouble."

Half-expecting to get charged with violating some esoteric Patriot Act provision, I breathlessly asked what was wrong.

"The Greensboro airport is going to destroy your bags."

Surely you jest. Sadly, no levity intended.

"It's official policy for bags left unattended. They have to by law."

I was, honestly, too perplexed to be angry.

"Is there anything we can do?" I asked.

And indeed there was. By 4:30 that afternoon (which really meant by 2:25, when my flight to Ft. Myers departed) I had to fax PTI a letter that indicated I legally released my bags to my mother.

But not just any letter. A NOTARIZED letter.

Two blessings then occurred. One, I discovered there was indeed a notary at Hartfield-Jackson airport. Whodathunkit? I had to exit the gates and go beyond security, but one was there. Second: my flight got delayed to 2:55.

Never have I been so relieved to have a flight delayed.

Several mad scrambles and dashes later, laptop and now-ponderous carry-on in tow, I found the notary. Scribbled the release. Got him to sign and stamp it. And fax it to the sympathetic folks in Greensboro.

In the end, the gave Mom my bags. I made it to Ft. Myers and witnessed Carter and Kristen get married. At the dinner reception they showed a picture of me with my mushroom hairdo, from the 1994 AAU Nationals.

Thanks, Debbie. I needed the laugh.

Thanks, Mom. For helping bail me out of my ineptitude.

Thanks, Carter. For 21 years of tolerating me as a friend.

Thanks, TSA and PTI airport. For being a royal, inconveniencing pains in the ass.