It started with a phone call.
"Hello"
"Hey honey, I'm not going to make it. Can you check for flights tomorrow morning?"
My wife was calling from town. She'd taken my daughter to get a second guinea pig (want to be sure he has company) and was running late. This was 4:30 and she had a 7:10 flight to Atlanta. With traffic on the way back, it wasn't looking good to get home, throw a bag together, and then drive to DIA. It's about 45 min from here, not a quick trip.
I checked United, with a very slow Internet connection here today, and found the earliest connecting flights didn't land until 4:41pm tomorrow. Only one direct flight was available, the one she's on tonight. 7:10, arriving at 12 midnight. That didn't seem good, especially as this is a quick trip to the client site, returning Thursday afternoon.
That didn't seem good, so she asked if I'd drive her. Not having to park and walk can save 20 minutes in Denver, so I agreed, and got up to get things ready to turn around. A few minutes later I got another call.
"I'm not going to make it. Can you pack my bag and meet me?"
Not sure what to say there. Me packing for a woman's business trip? For me, no problem, a couple pairs of jeans and polos, even t-shirts would work for me. Worst case I'd buy running shoes on the road. But a woman? Even my wife? I didn't want to, but didn't really have a choice. So I said sure and she directed me.
"Grab the laptop and power cord and check for the Blackberry USB cable" Piece of cake, I can do this. MY confidence is growing as I grab the laptop, drop it in the bag and add the power cord. I couldn't find the Blackberry cable where she said it was. Not in the front pocket, not near the bed, confidence ebbing....a litle searching finds it in another pocket.
"It's the one with "up" written on the mini-USB connector, right?"
"Yep"
She didn't want to check a bag, so I moved her laptop bag near the door. Maybe I can do this?
"Now go get the green suitcase from near the pantry." I go downstairs; it's not there. Hmmm, I ask Tia and find it in the laundry room nearby. No big deal, bring it upstairs.
"Grab my running shoes and pink t-shirt and socks and set them aside." No problem, I do that, moving them to the laptop bag. It's a big one, rolling, with the 3 or 4 pockets in it. But I'm not sure how to get running shoes in it. She's still talking.
"OK, now there are a bunch of dirty clothes in there, pull them out and see what's left." Yeah, right. Figure out what's clean and what's not? Sorry, everything's out. I grab a clean pair of socks and pile them on the laptop bag.
"Now go in the closet. Find the pair of black dress pants hanging on the closet rod and pack them." Hmmm, now it's getting hard. Dress pants to me are, well, any pants that aren't jeans. I think I have them, so I move them and I'm trying to figure out how to pack these in the laptop bag with running shoes. I can't, so I ask.
"How do I get your running shoes in the laptop bag?"
"What?" Silence for about 20 sec.
"You don't. Put them back in the green suitcase." Duh, mental head slap. To me, the novice traveler, I take one bag on the plane, always. Never two. If I have two, I check one.
"Now get two pairs of underwear, any kind and then go back in the closet." I do that, and get directed to pick out a shirt. Then it's downstairs for sandals. I hear "OK" and I'm relaxing when I hear
"That's day one." Day one? There's more?
Yep, there's more. I'm directed back to the closet to find a "linen" skirt, not sure still if I have that right. I guess I'll hear about that tomorrow night if I was wrong. I have to find a "sheer" top and then a white tank-like top with stringy things on it. Men never buy stringy things, so I'm very confused, and nervous. I end up grabbing a few extra tops that have stringy like things on them just to be safe. I figure she's not going to exceed 50lbs in this carry on, so better safe.
I get clothes in, and she asks if I have a "flat-iron" in there. This sounds like something you take camping with the Boy Scouts, so she must hear the dull pause and explains it's for her hair. Ahh, that thing is in there. I close it, and
"Now, go back downstairs and get my prescription." I ran today, and apparently am getting more exercise. Find that, and come upstairs.
"Now go in the bathroom and add my vitamins. " Add? I'm confused. Apparently she means open the prescription bottle and move some vitamins into the prescription bottle. Two kinds, she has a routine, I move them, then we're packed.
Or so I think. I bring the bags downstairs, and as I go into the garage, I hear:
"Now look at the pile of stuff from my trip." Can she hear me opening doors on the phone? She's referring to her last trip, a week in Pagosa Springs for horse training. There's a pile of 2 or 3 bags in the garage that haven't been emptied since she returned Saturday. We have a busy life, I totally understand.
Now I'm digging through these bags to find make-up and toothpaste, etc. I move those over, then get told to separate out a bag of "airline" safe stuff that needs to come out. So I open the case, find that ziploc, and move it to the front pocket.
"My green brush should be in that pile somewhere." That's not here, it's getting late, I'm running out of patience. I move everything out of the pile, search all the bags, nada. A brush is a brush, right? I know there was some brush in the bag I packed. It's not good enough, so I end up with another trip around, but I can't find it. Hopefully I haven't failed "packing" class.
"Now I need my iPod and my ticket."
I know where these are. I saw them on her desk, so I retrieve them and drop them in the laptop bag, put everything in the 9-11, and I'm done.
Whew! There's 30 minutes that I would not care to repeat.
If I had to ask her to pack?
"Grab two changes of clothes, my running shoes, my black travel bag, add contact case/solution, shaving cream, razor."
Done.