Saturday, September 19, 2015
Hidemi’s Rambling No.552
After I got my boarding ticket at the check-in counter in LAX, I was
headed for the security gate. As a typical, old-fashioned Japanese, I
strictly separate the floor on which I step with my shoes off from the
one with my shoes on. Without my shoes, I wouldn’t let my feet touch the
outside or public floor where people walk with their shoes on. The
security gate where I need to take off my shoes on the dirty public
floor is a torture for me. My custom there is putting additional socks
as covers over the ones I’m wearing, and take them off when my feet
return into my shoes. By that way, my socks stay clean without touching
the dirty surface directly, which means my home floor also stays clean
when I come home and take off my shoes at the entrance. Because of my
peculiar custom, my preparation in the line for the security check is
quite hectic. I’m pulling a new pair of socks out of my bag, taking off
my shoes and my jacket, putting on the socks over my socks, taking off a
pin and a wristwatch, putting them in the basket along with a
smartphone. The security machine at LAX was state-of-the-art that I had
never been through before and had seen only in a news show on TV. When I
go through the usual security gate, a beep often goes off for some
reason. I wondered how many beeps would go off when I was completely
scanned with this high-tech machine. I went in the machine with spread
arms and legs tensely. Except that a security worker told me to turn my
pendants around to my back, I got through without beeping. I was
relieved and taking my stuff from the basket when I noticed my partner
had forgotten his pen and his money clip in the basket next to mine. I
scrambled his stuff and put back on my jacket and shoes at the bench.
Then, the scare hit me. My wristwatch was gone! My favorite, dear watch
that I had put onto my jacket was missing. I remembered a man was
looking around restlessly beside the pick-up lane. Did he take it? I
also remembered a young woman was looking into several baskets behind
me. Was it her? Or, one of the workers who scanned the belongings took
it while scanning? All at once, everyone around me looked like a thief
and I was surrounded by evil people. I had forgotten that this was Los
Angeles. Someone must have stolen it. The watch was not expensive, but
it was a rare Mickey Mouse one I found at an online auction site and I
was attached to it. This trip had been going so well without mishap, and
it was so close to be ended successfully. I was almost there. I was
shocked that something bad happened in the end and ruined the whole
trip. To me, what was gone was not just my watch but my good impression
for people here and this trip altogether. I was utterly disappointed at
this sad ending for the trip. I told my partner that the inevitable
finally happened and my watch was stolen. He suggested I should report
it somewhere. I had already given up but went back to the gate
reluctantly to make a useless attempt. In a jam of people around the
gate, I managed to talk to a security worker. Although I had expected an
indifferent response, he listened to me intently and showed sympathy
for me. He kindly figured out what to do and told me to go to the nearby
counter. A person at the counter showed me the lost-and-found items.
There was even a bunch of keys among them, but not my watch. She went
away to the distant shelves while I was standing dazed and faint with a
shock and despair. A different worker walked past beside me carrying a
basket. I casually glanced at it and couldn’t believe my own eyes.
Sitting on the bottom of the basket was none other than my watch! I
shouted, “That’s mine! That’s mine!” I was jumping, with my arms waving
high above me like a banzai-style. The workers gave a wry smile and
brought the basket to me. I uttered thank-you for a million times. It
wasn’t stolen but merely my fault. It turned out that I had paid
attention to my partner’s left stuff too much to double-check mine. The
watch had slipped from onto my jacket to the corner of the basket and
been left there. The basket then quickly had been returned to the
entrance of the gate with my watch in it, but no one took it. I was
ashamed of myself. I regarded everybody as a thief, even the security
workers who were very compassionate. I was surrounded by good people and
the most evil person at the security gate was me at that time…
Labels:
airport,
banzai,
despair,
impression,
LAX,
Los Angeles,
lost-and-found,
Mickey Mouse,
mishap,
overseas travel,
scanner,
security check,
security gate,
socks,
stolen,
thief,
travel,
wristwatch