My what bad handbags you have!
Didn't realize how long it had been since I'd shopped anywhere but the grocery store or CVS. It was time to do my personal bit to stimulate the economy, but the stores were like alien clones from an alternate dimension. They seemed jammed with merchandise sloppily arranged under 50% off signs, short on customers, and even shorter on android employees. A lone, pimply male was manning the only open register at Kohl's when I bought my bargain crew socks.
I blame the decline and fall of the economy on all the fashions made of slimy unnatural fabrics cheaply finished in foreign countries to resemble maternity tops. Can you spell "U G L Y"?
Just for old times sake I wandered through the purse department. My friends and I have spent many frustrating but happy hours searching for the elusive perfect purse in well-lighted stores. Today I was dog-paddling through gray Jello. The current handbag offerings are huge metallic patent leather bulky blobs with snap-closures instead of secure zippers. You could throw in a trendy teacup dog, a hamster enclosed in its exercise ball, and two retro sock monkeys, and still have room for your iPhone.
Lucy Locket lost her pocket. Kitty Fisher found it. Don DeLillo predicted it.
© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder