Suitcase Sordid Saga

TAKE OFF

Getting shoved into a plane’s cargo hold is sadistic and humiliating. Being a fake Louis Vuitton suitcase sometimes gives me better treatment, but the airport baggage handlers see so many fakes, it doesn’t really matter to them. Only luggage in private planes are treated with respect. Today was one of those days I was literally shoved into a tiny space next to stinky, disgusting duffel bags. Then, they threw one of those obnoxious hard-shelled suitcases on top of me and I passed out. That was fine, actually, because I didn’t have to smell the other duffels surrounding me.

I awoke to more cruelty tossed mercilessly onto the conveyor and dropped on the carousel baggage claim to await my owner, Sam claiming and taking me home with his daughter, Samatha’s, new doll surprise inside. I always looked forward to her digging around inside me to find her new surprise from her doting Daddy. Anytime he went away on a business trip, Sam always bright Samantha back a treasure to make up for his absence.

It’s been at least two human hours since I’ve been circling around this carousel and me and only one stinky duffel bag are left with no pick up. Where is Sam? Why has he not retrieved me. I’m literally getting dizzy and might hurl at any moment. I looked around and realized I wasn’t at the usual LAX baggage claim. Sam was probably desperately looking for me.

THE PICKUP

Oh, wait… somebody is looking at me, but it’s not Sam. Whoever it is just picked me up! 'Who are you?' I tried to scream, but failed because being a suitcase, I have no vocal cords. He wheeled me to a woman who was with him and bragged while showing me off. She was ecstatic because she thought I was an authentic Louis Vuitton suitcase! Excitedly jumping up and down exclaiming “Bellisima, mi amore! Mi hai regalato la valigia Louis Vuitton che ho sempre desiderato!” Interesting, I must be able to understand Italian because she just said ‘Beautiful, my love! I have always wanted a Louis Vuitton suitcase!’ Furthermore, I didn’t get unloaded at an LAX luggage carousel, but must have been transferred to a flight going to Italy. Damn, Sam is gonna’ sue some asses off!

Well, would you look at that! I’m being put into a limousine in Italy. I’m a really convincing counterfeit Louis Vuitton suitcase for that dude to steal me, because he can most certainly just buy her a real one! This, by the way, is no ordinary stretch limousine… it’s a Rolls Royce stretch limousine! I feel sorry for little Samantha, but my existence just got a major upgrade in lifestyle.

The thief’s girlfriend, wife or mistress was fondling and admiring me and I liked it a lot. I liked it until she put me on the seat and started kissing her paramour. Oh, yuck... she began rewarding him and things escalated to wildly passionate. Soon they were making love on top of me! I don’t know how that was comfortable for them, but it worked for both of them. Afterwards, though, cleaning me off was kinda’ gross.

We finally made it to their home, or rather an estate in Sicily. Sicily? Who are these people? He carried me inside for her and then I understood who he was, anyway. Unceremoniously, he grabbed and tossed me on top of a pile of cellophane-wrapped bricks. He then ordered several of his henchmen to fill me up. His girlfriend, wife or mistress screamed “No, it’s mine! You gave it to me, Luca!”

"Relax, Gia! I can buy you all the real ones you want after this sale!”

Ahh, now I understand and I‘m taking names and gonna’ kick some ass… if only I had arms and legs. Quickly taking orders from apparently some mafia drug kingpin named Luca, the henchman opened me and roughly dumped out Sam’s personal belongings along with Samantha’s new doll.

When Gia saw the cute doll hit the expensive, marbled floor, she picked it up, but wasn’t nearly as impressed with the doll as she was with the fake Louis Vuitton suitcase. Gia was just as heartless as Luca! One of the Rottweiler guard dogs came up to sniff the doll. Gia heartlessly handed Samanth's doll to him as a new toy. He quickly ripped it apart as though it were an invader in the house. Better the doll than Samantha, I suppose… or me!

THE RIVER

Once overstuffed with heroin bricks, I never saw Luca or Gia or that incredible Rolls Royce limousine again. Traveling in a dark trunk, the vehicle started speeding and recklessly swerving. I heard sirens and gun shots. The car stopped and I saw daylight. The henchmen quickly opened me and dumped out all the heroine bricks, which I was overdosing on, into a river. I was hurled into the air, got a few bullets in my fake sides and landed on a river. The bullet holes caused me to start filling up with water and as I careened down a rapid and over a waterfall, I hit a large boulder and ricocheted onto the other bank.

THE RESCUE

I must have lain on that bank for what seemed like days, but it could have been mere seconds, since I don’t know how to tell time. I was now bullet-ridden and not even a good counterfeit Louis Vuitton mirror bag anymore. I was worthless and would probably just rot here forever.

A crunching of grass and rocks sounds, along with an attempt at bad opera singing of Nessum Dorma, kept getting closer and louder to wherever I had landed. Fortunately, when the man with the tone-deaf voice saw me, he became interested and hovered over me. Using his walking stick, he tossed me around. I’m not sure what he saw and liked, but he picked me up by my barely intact handle. Unfortunately, all the way back to his off-the-grid cabin, he loudly attempted singing Nessum Dorma again. I’m quite certain Pavarotti was rolling over in his grave. Inside the dilapidated cabin was much better than being wet and cold on a river bank, though.

I thought he really liked me because he set about to repair the bullet holes with some deer-kill hide and strong, but ugly bolts, reattaching my flailing handle. I caught a glimpse of my repaired self on a window pane when light hit me at exactly the right angle. I was hideous! He was Dr. Frankenstein and I was his reanimated monster! I tried to cry, but of course, I couldn’t. Why did he do this to me?

In the morning, I found out why. Dr. Frankenstein carried me deep into the woods, loaded me up with firewood and took me back to my new abode. So, that’s my lot in life, now… carrying firewood for Dr. Frankenstein! I hated this new existence. I longed to be back with Sam and Samantha. I had to escape Dr. Frankenstein! Who knows? He might try making a bride for me!

THE ESCAPE

Today, the woods were covered in snow. Dr. Frankenstein even slipped on some ice patches. It was difficult for him to find good, dry firewood. So, he trudged to a sloped area hoping to find firewood where snow had fallen off and it was dryer. Exhausted from the trek to this area, he plunked me on the wet, icy ground. I immediately became a sled, sliding away to freedom. Everything was what I had dreamed about, until I hit another damn rock. Hurling through the air again, I saw a gravel road and a truck approaching. As if from a 'Mission Impossible' movie, I landed right smack in the middle of the bed. The driver didn’t even realize it until we got to a remote area in Sicily. Dr. Frankenstein was still trying to catch his breath and still hadn’t noticed I was long gone.

The driver stopped at a cafe for some lunch and I could only wait and rest. Afterwards, he drove me and all the other goods in the bed to a his thrift shop. He started unloading items he knew he picked up. Then he saw me… Frankenstein’s monster. “What the Hell are you?” he said totally bewildered about how I got there. I thought I was doomed for the trash bin or to be burned because I was so ugly. However, I was so ugly, he was intrigued, carried me in and put me on a counter for further examination.

He saw the LV logo and most everybody recognizes that. Trying to make me more valuable than I’ve ever been worth, he spent days actually trying to make me look worse, you know... like an antique. Antiques always bring more money. Proudly displaying me in his shop, the tag read:

Original Louis Vuitton, circa 1859, suitcase discovered amongst other vintage unclaimed shipping goods. The glorious patina shows its past history and generations of loving wear.

Price: 1,852 EUR

THE DISCOVERY

No, this not going to end with everything being just a dream like ‘Dallas’ did, but here it is.

Sam traveled a lot because he was an Antiquities Dealer and worked with all the major auction houses around the world. A curator from an auction house in Milan was alerted about this supposed antique Louis Vuitton suitcase by an educated tourist/shopper rummaging through his thrift shop.

The curator visited the thrift shop and examined it to possibly secure it for an auction. Of course he found it was a counterfeit suitcase, confiscated it with the help of la polizia, and published it in a catalogue as a warning.

This warning caught Sam’s eye when he saw the story with pictures in the catalogue. He immediately called the curator, told him his story and he believed it was his misplaced suitcase. The curator agreed to hold it for Sam who was on the first flight out of LAX to the Milan auction house.

Arriving the next day, Sam examined me, the now hideously fake Louis Vuitton suitcase. He spotted the one thing that made him know without a doubt it was me... his long-lost suitcase.

Samatha had sewn a crude red heart inside a zipper compartment so her Daddy could always look at it when he traveled to remember how much she loved him. No matter what I'd been though, parts of that red heart were still there. Sam showed the curator what the heart originally looked like. The curator teared up and immediately gave Frankenstein’s monster to him.

Epilogue

On Sam’s flight back, no way did he check me into the baggage compartment. I was treated like royalty and placed safely in an overhead compartment! Yes, I was too big, but Sam explained how important I was to the flight attendant, and she allowed me to be kept in the first-class coat closet near him.

When Sam arrived back in America, he called in a favor from a luggage restoration owner. He repaired me as much as possible removing every trace of Frankenstein's monster, but I could never be restored to my original fake glory.

He paid for the restoration, which was about the price of an authentic new one. Stopping in a big, famous toy shop, Sam bought the same doll the Rottweiler destroyed, put it in me and home to Samantha at last. She cried out joyously because Daddy had brought her home the beautiful doll she always wanted. Me? She couldn’t have cared less about me or my fantastic adventures.