I’m sad. I just left my cool neck pillow on the plane, and no one turned it in to lost and found before the plane left again, so it’s gone for good. I think I deserve it too. Let me elaborate.
When I got onto the plane in Chicago, I noticed an old copy of Edith Hamilton’s “Mythology” in the seat pocket in front of me. I had plenty of time to bring it to the attention of the flight attendant, who could have gotten it to the gate to its lost and found. But no, I left it there. When I got off the plane here in St. Louis I thought again, maybe I should give it to the flight attendant. But then I noticed that it contained a personal letter, and that letter had an address for the book’s owner (I knew it was the book’s owner because they had left their boarding pass in the book as a bookmark.) I decided, “Hey, the airport will probably not even bother trying to get this back to its owner if the owner doesn’t call. So I will send it myself.”
I was so caught up in harrowing my own future good deed that I forgot my own pillow on the plane.
I tried to get it back, but to no avail. The plane had already left and no one had alerted the flight attendant, just like I hadn’t about that damn book.
Now I’m sitting here in St. Louis about to board a 3 hour flight to Las Vegas, where I’m going to need that pillow. Lord knows I can’t rest my head on a book.