So a few years ago...

We went to the airport to pick Matt up. He had gone to California with the band or choir that year (can't remember which) and was finally home!

As we waited in the baggage claim area, a guy about our age, maybe a little younger, was pulling his suitcases off the carousel.

One by one he compared the little labels stapled into his ticket folder with the labels on the suitcases... and one at a time he tore off the paper luggage ID tags and stickers. He finished by tossing them on the floor about five feet from a garbage can, grabbing his bags and arrogantly stalking out.

I pointed him out to my hubby as he was tearing off the tags and tossing them on the floor, and Eric said, "Jesus. What a lazy jerk!! There's a trash can right over there, Buddy!"

The guy was either deaf or pretending not to hear. He completely ignored Eric's not-so-subtle (and not so quiet, either) remarks.

And when he had disappeared through the automatic doors into the Spring evening, I carefully gathered up all his luggage tags. Every little bit and piece. Even the skinny little elastics that had held them on the handles.

Since his name and address were so legibly printed, there was only one thing to do.

I brought them home.

And the next day, I wrote him a little note.
"Ha ha, Asshole. Now you have to throw them away."

I sealed it all into an envelope and mailed it to him.