Monday, December 24, 2007

Ode to my Bag

Dear Bag,

when i first met you, i have to admit that i was underwhelmed. you looked so boring on the shelf: a rectangular work bag with poopy brown pebbled leather. you barely had any personality - the skinny straps and the barely noticeable pink stitching were the only remotely interesting things about you.

the things that attracted me to you were the fact that i desperately needed a new work bag, and you were priced at half of what your actual value was. to remove the extra verbage, i was desperate, and you were cheap.

that was a year and a half ago. since the day i bought you, i have used you almost every day. while i've dragged you to countless boring days at the office, we've had a lot of good times as well. remember when we went snowboarding? remember how much fun that was? i still laugh when i look at those pictures i took when i was on the ski lift and you were flying down the mountain in your red scarf, and you totallllllyyyyy wiped out. ha ha ha ha.

no, seriously though, i know i haven't always treated you well. i've inadvertently set you down in dirty puddles of water, taken you to bars where drunk retards have spilled their cheesy sex-on-the-beach-long-island-iced-tea-rocks-instead-of-brains drinks on you, and left you on the ground in Indian train stations for hours at a time, where you've no doubt picked up little tiny speckles of filth and feces that i try very hard not to think about.

you're such a survivor. i know your parents haven't treated you well. i've never seen you in any ad campaigns or on anyone else's arm, let alone for sale in a legitimate retail store. even though it's where i bought you, you're far above the outlet store in vacaville, conveniently located off of highway 80 on the way back from tahoe.

i've noticed that your parents tend to favor your siblings. they seem friendly, i guess, but are truly fugly. i have no idea why they would favor patchwork designs that includes brown suede, giant linked 'C' patterns in rainbow colors, and hot pink fur. i also have no idea why people purchase them. they look like they ate the ugliest fabric scraps they could find, pooped them out, threw up, mixed them together, swallowed the mix, and then turned themselves inside out. gross.

i admire what you do every day. whether it's carrying my dirty running shoes and nasty gym clothes, or standing up in defiance to that camel on the beach in dubai that almost spit on you, you do everything with integrity and principle. as i saw you come out of the security scan this morning at the delhi airport, i marveled at how amazing you still look - the same way you looked on the shelf that fateful day in vacaville.

thank you, bag. you're great. i would give you a big hug and a kiss to demonstrate my love and appreciation, but i won't. i don't want to get any diseases.

Love,

Me.

2 Comments:

Blogger Laura said...

you left out a very important detail. what kind of bag is it??? brand whores need to know.

7:08 PM  
Blogger Kat said...

sounds like a coach bag! very lovely post =D

1:15 PM  

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