“Please,” I say over the counter for what feels like the hundredth time. “If the bags aren’t here, I can come back, but I can’t just keep standing here—” She raises a hand in my face. “Ma’am, I need you to calm down.” Oh, no she didn’t. “Calm down?” I seethe. “I haven’t begun to be un-calm. You’re the one who said my bags weren’t even in the system two seconds ago—” I choke back the rest of my tirade. It’s not worth it. “Please,” I say again. “Just tell me—” “Got it,” she murmurs, her eyes back on the screen. “Looks like two of the bags were misdirected during your connecting flight in
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