My Black Suede Handbag – A Saga Is Born
Today I discovered the sensuality of suede. I’d slipped out of the office at lunchtime to buy a bag for an evening function at work, all my existing ones having been ravished by the dog, my child, or my own carelessness. I’d intended to simply pick something serviceable and multifunctional, but an obliging saleslady had introduced me to a neat, sleek, elegant black suede handbag that got me hooked on suede the moment I handled it. From that moment onwards, my black suede handbag became my newest best friend.
When it was time to go home, I tucked my new black suede handbag under my arm and walked out with a new spring in my step.
As I passed the handbag shop, I gazed at the displays, unconsciously stroking my black suede handbag reassuringly like a new puppy I was taking home for the first time. Then I saw it. THAT was my next purchase!
It was only when I saw the alarmed expression of the man walking past me that I realized that I had muttered aloud to the bag under my arm, “That’s your new brother! See? The brown suede handbag on the left shelf? He’ll be home with us soon.”
I flushed, looked down at the pavement steadfastly, and hurried to the bus stop, black suede bag choking to death in an unbreakable armpit clamp.
The Saga Begins: Our Struggle For Survival.
Safely seated on the bus, I loosened my deathlike grip on the bag, then had a frightening thought. What if I was SWEATING? And with that, I started to sweat profusely. I released the bag immediately and grabbed at it with the other hand to see what damage had been done. At that moment, a motorcyclist swung in front of the bus. The bus driver swerved viciously and slammed on the brakes. The bag went skidding down the isle! “My black suede handbag!” I yelled in breaking hysteria. Every face turned to me in astonishment and umpteen hands flew out to rescue the slithering bag. I retrieved it hurriedly from an outstretched hand and regained my seat, once again flushing in shame.
Once home, my attempts to smuggle it into a place of safety proved fruitless. “You got a new thingy!” yelled one of the kids. “It’s NOT a thingy – it’s a black suede handbag! Leave it!” The dog smelled it and started to lift his leg. He escaped neutering by a hair’s breadth.
My black suede handbag eventually scored a safe resting place, which I will not reveal at this time. Rest assured, it WILL be protected. It’s not just a bag, it’s an ally. It’s my black suede handbag.
![Reblog this post [with Zemanta]](http://img.zemanta.com/reblog_e.png?x-id=b14dff56-28e6-4e75-abd8-8f10d7a7d564)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment