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What’s In Your Bag?…

Lunch with the ladies.

“Does anyone have a tissue?”

Handbag rooting ensues. Yes, indeed, there is a tissue.

Few minutes later. “Does someone have an Advil?”

Bag rooting ensues. Of course, there’s an Advil.

Third times a charm. “Does anyone have a safety pin?” Laughter, along with rooting, and safety pin for an errant bra strap is fetched and taken to the ladies for adjustment.

Laughter leads to the question: What’s In Your Bag?

The younger set who carry phone and keys are missing out. With chickens as we amble into Trader Joe’s, “Mom, will you put this in your purse?” I’ve had to mail, as in send with the snails, small wallets, hair ties, scarves, earrings, even a tiny plastic cat with a sushi backpack.

The ladies reveal contents of their bags. There’s the norm: pens, pencils, eyeliner, lipstick, wallet and keys. There’s also, grey coverage spritz, a toothbrush and toothpaste, a notebook with a cat done up like Audrey Hepburn, goldfish crackers, mints, gum, a rock labeled ‘secure” and Emergen-C.

One of the girls, to be never named, rarely leaves home without a mini version of a battery operated toy, She quips, one never knows. More clues as to why dating eludes me. She adds cheerily, “Besides, it looks like a tampon so no one would guess.” Until you bump it searching for an Advil and the buzzing begins.

Another has a Red Bull at the ready. “You drink it warm?”

“When I need it, I need it,” she counters.

The glint of a silver flask catches the eye. “For emergencies,” she smiles.

Another, seriously, carries utensils as she has an aversion to forks with only three tines.

Yet another carries a tattered take out menu. In case the need for Asian food hits her in the car. One of the more prepared girls carries playing cards. She says cards help when she gets stuck somewhere like the DMV or the doctor’s office.

“You can also make new friends,” she says as if we’re all stupid. Pfft. We laugh because we make friends the old fashioned way–at the wine bar.

I’ve been known to carry shoes. Sometimes you can’t decide. Sometimes, there are apres work plans. And sometimes, the crew at work thinks a walk over lunch is a good idea. I hate when that happens. But I have cute Keds nonetheless.

I always have stamps. Those of us who pen thank you notes and believe written correspondence is next to godliness get giddy at the thought of a forever flag stamp ready to carry our thoughts to the world for fifty cents.

We can only really know the full contents of our bags when we switch them up, moving things from one to another. There’s that endless linty stuff that comes from who knows where, 23 pens, all clicked open so slasher marks cover the lining, 38 small pieces of paper with numbers we don’t remember, grocery lists, quotes to use later, a stray allergy pill (ooh I need that and take it there on the spot) along with a thong and a mint that we blow the dust off and pop in.

You never know when you might be in need of a fresh pair and fresh breath right?


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