That Escalated Quickly… Sort Of

I was at the airport in Atlanta, Georgia. I had just passed through security and was taking the two-story escalator down to the trains that transport people between terminals. My small hard-sided carry-on bag was next to me, and suddenly, it tipped over. I made a grab for it but missed, and it started a rapid descent down the escalator, handle first. Thankfully, no one was below me to be struck by it, and by the time it hit the bottom, the bag was going really fast.

Other passengers on the escalator looked like spectators at a tennis match, glancing back and forth between me and my out-of-control bag. It hit the bottom and shockingly didn’t break or become lodged. Instead, it flew off the end of the escalator and went careening out of sight down the hall. At that point, I could only do one thing.

I raised my arms in the “touchdown” sign.

A man behind me yelled, “Score!” The other travelers around us laughed.

When I reached the bottom of the escalator, I found my bag at the feet of another traveler, who seemed quite amused. The TSA agent who was also standing over my bag was much less amused.

I still have that bag today, and the scratches from the escalator are still visible.