The Samsonite Code: a short story

A few years ago I went to visit my dad and step mom in Tulsa, Ok. It was one of
those trips where I came home with more than I took, so my stepmom sent me back
with an old suitcase of hers that she no longer wanted.

I got home and
unpacked it, then put it in the attic where it has been for a few years. I have
no use for it. It’s an old style with tiny wheels. It is large and taking up too
much space, but I have a terrible time getting rid of anything that has useful
life left.

So a few weeks ago a person posted on Google groups that she
was looking for an old suitcase to take on a mission trip. She wanted one that
didn’t have to be returned if it were ruined or lost. Perfect! I responded right
away. When she got to my house I got out the suitcase, and it was then that I
realized it had a 3-digit combination lock on it. I tried all the obvious
possibilities (my dad’s area code, part of the zip, address, etc.) with no luck.
I even called them but they didn’t remember it. The woman took the suitcase
anyway, thinking perhaps she could get the lock off the suitcase.

couple of weeks later the suitcase was on my front porch when I got home, still
locked. I can only assume she found a different one to take. I didn’t even
bother to take it back up to the attic. It has been by the front door for a
while waiting for me to get rid of it! So today, fed up, I decided that there
were only 1000 possible combinations and how long could it possibly take to flip
through them?

Read the rest!

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