Coffee sales rep Megan Brooks is just about to approach level nine, her husband Paul has confirmed.

As an overly neat and organised traveller, Megan’s stress levels are often tested when travelling on aeroplanes – especially after experiencing four minutes of turbulence between Brisbane and Sydney.

Despite the fact that only three bags have made their way onto the baggage carousel, Megan is beginning to assume the worst.

“They’ve definitely lost of our bags” she says to Paul, while clutching her leather passport holder.

“I knew this would happen. I knew we shouldn’t have flown with them”

Paul, trying to quell Megan’s fears, attempts to change the subject.

“Why did you bring your passport? We are only going to your mother’s place” he asks.

“I don’t know, Paul!” she spits back.

“Maybe because these bloody airlines can’t be trusted to get anything right. I always need at least three forms of ten point identification”

“It’ll come in handy when they are trying to get our details because they’ve lost our fucking luggage!”

Megan turns her attention to a nondescript airport employee wearing a high-vis vest.

“EXCUSE ME! Can you please call your manager! You seem to have LOST our luggage”

“No doubt one of the baggage handlers liked the look of my Dell laptop!”

The man at the receiving end of Megan’s tirade carefully attempts to notify her that he is a subcontracted janitor, and has no authority when it comes to her complaint

“I have no way of helping you” he replies.

“I’m just here to empty the bins”

Megan, now closer to a level ten airport meltdown, responds to the polite airport cleaner with a classist spray about the Apathy of spoilt blue collar workers.

“Oh. You don’t think it’s worth your 28 dollars an hour to make sure passengers actually leave the airport with their luggage?!”

“Get me your manager now!”

With another bundle of bags now coming through the flaps, Megan’s husband goes outside to pretend to look for a cab.


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