The trip back was more like what I had been expecting with priceline than my first flight: a 6am departure, with a 3 hour layover in Chicago, and a middle seat in the last row of the plane from Chicago to Boston. On that flight, the guy sitting on my right looked like he was about fifteen but was decked out in an army dress uniform, complete with medals indicating his expertise in "Grenade" and "Rifle". Waiting for him down in baggage claim was this girl who also looked like a high-schooler and who started shouting "Look at you! Look at you!" from the moment we started down the escalator. She was wearing a T-Shirt that said "Frisky Female" and threw her arms around and kissed him the moment we reached the bottom.
A few minutes later, I was standing next to this married couple at baggage claim, on the far side of the loop from where the luggage comes out. Along with all the relatively uniform gray and black suitcases rolling out onto the belt, there was this giant fluorescent chartreuse plastic one, unlike anything I have ever seen. The suitcase comes around, and the husband grabs it. Then he gives the top of the suitcase a brief look and lets go of it, the way people do when they check whether a piece of nondescript luggage is theirs and decide it isn't. He turns to his wife, who widens her eyes and raises her arms in that way that is the universal signal for "Were you this stupid when we got married and I just didn't realize it, or has somebody been spending years slipping lead paint chips into your coffee at the office?" The husband, suitably abashed, trotted around me and retrieved the suitcase, as his wife just shook her head.