How a Cheap Suitcase Nearly Ruined My Career

TLDR; buy this bag instead.

I should’ve known better the moment I unzipped the thing and the zipper fell off. Not unzipped — fell off. That should’ve been my cue to return the suitcase and burn the receipt in a cleansing ritual. But no. I had a flight in four hours and a misplaced sense of optimism.

It was a black suitcase made of a material I can only describe as “pressed disappointment.” The tag proudly proclaimed “Genuine Faux Leather,” which is like saying “Authentic Lies.” It had wheels — two of them — but only one worked, the other screamed like a banshee every time it touched carpet.

So there I was, trying to navigate through JFK like a business casual Quasimodo, dragging this uncooperative squealing cube of sadness toward Gate 27. People turned. Children cried. A security dog whimpered.

But here’s where it really went off the rails.

I was flying in to pitch our company’s AI software to a major client — a real game-changer, career-defining opportunity. Midway through the terminal, the suitcase exploded. Not literally, but the zipper gave way with the force of a confetti cannon. Socks, briefs, a travel-size lint roller, and exactly one individually wrapped pickle shotgunned across the airport like shrapnel from a clearance bin.

Worse: my laptop — the only device with the demo files — flopped out like a fish and skidded across the floor into a Chili’s To Go. The guy behind the counter just looked at it, then at me, and said, “You gonna order something or nah?”

I was ten minutes late to the meeting, sweaty, pickle-scented, and holding my laptop like a wounded pet. The client stared. I launched into my demo with the fervor of a man who had nothing left to lose, which apparently was impressive, because somehow — somehow — they signed the deal.

They later admitted they mostly did it because they felt bad.

So let this be a warning: when your career is riding on a presentation, don’t let your suitcase cost less than your lunch. Because the only thing it will carry well… is your shame.