Almost there, but not quite.

Soon come, I’ll have my own sweet pillow on my own sweet bed in my own sweet little home with my sweet boy-o. At least that’s my tired fantasy that’s keeping me chugging through the air miles.

Meanwhile, leaving town went smoothly, and then it didn’t. As I was patting myself on the back for getting Dot and myself to the airport with time to spare to catch our respective planes, Dot opened the side pocket of the bag Andy asked her to carry back. In the side pocket, Andy’s passport.

Holy shit.

I had already swapped my UK sim card out of my cheapo cell phone, so we didn’t know that after we left the flat Andy had been calling. Somewhere around the time we realized we had his proverbial travel papers, he had as well.

As I tried to figure out what the right key combo was to use my iPhone while it was internationally roaming, and I was trying to call a Scottish-bought cell phone, Andy’s, we heard the public address system click on and page Dot’s name. So we ran back downstairs away from our departure gates and to the ticket counter.

Only problem was the ticket counter chicks were about to end their shift, and therefore, they didn’t want to hold the passport for Andy to pick up. Dot’s plane was close to boarding (might have already been), and we weren’t through security.

I think a touch panicky or maybe just anxious, she left and I searched out the lost and found essentially, and I hope that turned out to be a secure place to leave behind someone else’s documentation. I made it to my plane with fingers crossed and a quick call to Andy to let him know where to go and with whom to talk.

Here’s what I learned from the adventure.

First, if you ever leave something to be held at Edinburgh Airport, they’ll charge you 5 pounds for the minding. Fuckers.

Second, if you carry a buddy’s bag, don’t cop to it when you find something important in the pocket. Airport personnel sure do get touchy what with that whole “Did you pack your own bags, are you carrying anything for anyone else, do you have a bomb?” line of questioning.

I guess if I never hear from Andy again, he never made it out of bonnie Scotland.