"Oh, bed luck, sir. I heard that the airline lost your luggage, and now, tch, tch, this happened to you," said a voice from behind him.
John turned. An old bald man in a blue suit with a white carnation stood behind John.
"Wha-?"
"I am with Traveler's Aid, and we may have something for you to wear. My name is Morton, come with me," said the old man walking along the outside of the terminal.
John shrugged, what did he have to lose? "Sure, lead the way," he said.
The man opened an unmarked door which opened into area that looked more like a porter's closet than a Traveler's Aid office. But John didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth. There was an ancient looking screen like you see in hospital movies from the 1940's, and Morton told John to step behind it and get undressed.
"I'll get you something to wear," Morton said moving over toward a stack of boxes.
"Is that what happens to the contents of lost luggage?" John asked.
"Sometimes," Morton replied, "But mostly donations. Ah, yes this should do nicely."
John heard rustling clothing as he stripped out of his drenched clothing. A pair of boxers appeared draped over the hospital divider.