Friday, September 2, 2011

What does it have in its pocketses?

I love my giraffe print purse purchased on the streets of New York several years ago. It’s big and strong enough, and has a good top zipper and a bold, yet neutral colored animal print on it. What more could I ask for?

Sadly, it’s time to say goodbye to that purse. She has served me well, but my constant flinging her about onto rough surfaces has caused the bottom to fray. Sad. I know.  But I was all excited by the challenge of finding a subtle animal texture, but more boldly-colored purse, like my toxic green snakeskin.  How I loved that fake Prada purse.

Anyway, with the fall fast approaching, I had my heart set on orange or red. Red crocodile to be precise, with silver metallic accents (I don’t like gold plated things).  After weeks of online searching – and finding in the $200-$300 price range! – I decided to hit the local stores.  Lo’ and behold, I found a red croc cross-strap purse with excellent compartments that spoke to me.  It was only when I got it home that I realized it said, “There’s no way you can get all your stuff in here, bonehead.”

So I put my stuff back in the giraffe purse and tried again.

There was a larger purse, much like the one that spoke to me, but this one had a manly cross-strap and no croc!  No homage to animal imagery at all! But, like the croc bag, it had some lovely functional spaces for my different categories of things.

It was a really tough decision, but I returned Ms. Red-Croc Thang, and purchased Ms. I’m-Getting-Old-and-Sedate killer bag.  It’s killer because, with all my stuff in it, I suspect I could actually kill someone with a good swing and delivery in the right spot.

But this is just background for what I really wanted to let you know.

When I returned Ms. Red-Croc Thang, the clerk reset the tag, and I’m certain, put it back on the shelf. Clearly, I had in no way used or abused the purse, so she thought it was safe. And it was.

It was only later that I realized someone else would likely be the proud owner of one emergency maxi-pad and my pocket Constitution which I had stuffed into one of its secret pockets.

You’re welcome, whoever you are.

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