Color Me a Rainbow

I was going on my first trip in a long time and when I started packing, the zipper on my luggage ripped, so I knew I had to get a new set.  The bags I had were 15 years old and even though I did not use them that much, they got damaged from being in my basement and having other items stored on top of them.  This luggage was a wedding gift from my sister and luggage had been modernized since then, as all the newer models had extra compartments and they came with wheels that made them easier for transport.  I decided to get some of those luggage identifiers, to make my bags stick out and hopefully keep other people from touching my bags while they were on the airport baggage carousel conveyors.  I know that I had gotten dirty looks for picking up someone else’ bags to check them, because they looked a lot like mine and I figured that the luggage identifiers would do the trick to dissuade others from grabbing my bags and also alert me that I was grabbing the right bag.

I bought a matching set of luggage that contained 3 bags, so I purchased 3 luggage identifiers to go along with them and I selected the rainbow, because it looked very distinctive.  When I brought my new luggage home and showed it to my wife, she told me that I should not have selected the rainbow identifiers, because she said that everyone would think that I was gay.  I laughed and asked her when did the rainbow become gay and she asked me if I am living under a rock, because everyone knows that the rainbow is a symbol for the gay community.  I didn’t know anyone that was gay, so I never got the message and to me the rainbow was filled with beautiful colors and it didn’t signify anything to me except being very distinctive, so I was going to keep it and use it with pride.  My flight was taking off the next morning and with this unexpected trip to the luggage store and the fact that I still needed to pack my bags, I knew that I was not going back to return them.  I really don’t care if somebody thinks that I am gay, as long as they don’t try to pick me up.

Written for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday where the prompt is to use the word “color/colour”.

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