Baggage allowance

I am on Flight 749 from Amsterdam "with service to Philadelphia". (The rest of the world is content to say simply that they're going from one place to another. They're not currently en route to it nor are they in the process of making their way to the final destination.)

I'm sitting on the side of the plane overlooking the baggage loading section. Idly looking out, I spot my bags sitting on the carts. For some reason the sight of them makes me want to cry. Well, anyway it means they haven't got lost yet. But they look a bit orphaned and unprotected, out in the open on the tarmac. They're loading the bags on a sort of conveyor belt into the plane now. They've pulled a blue one aside. They're making quite a meal of checking the tags. It's vaguely reassuring that these guys are Dutch, though it doesn't make them any less human. Oh he's checking my tags now... and they're on the conveyor belt coming in. Hi bags! You look very small next to all the giant suitcases.

Now I'm free to feel bad for the blue bag, which is now sitting all by itself on the wagon. I feel like standing up and announcing "will the owner of the blue bag please rescue their property?" Then I remember the thing about people who can dissolve bomb components in shampoo to reassemble in airplane bathrooms, and I'm suddenly not quite so sorry any more.