American Tourister

Often enough, my friends mock me for carrying around my own popcorn seasoning in my bag at all times. I carry it around in case I find myself at the movies, which is always a possibility at my advanced state of age and boringness. But my friends laugh at me because of it. So you can imagine that when, last week, I discovered that my popcorn seasoning had leaked inside of my bag, I couldn't tell anyone. "Well, now he's got his come-uppance with that blasted popcorn seasoning," they would say. Instead, I quietly laundered the bag and hung it up to dry.

While I was waiting for the bag to dry, I decided to debut my late mother's American Tourister bag. My mother used to use this bag on family vacations we took. This bag has sunned in Nassau and observed strange family dynamics in Aruba. I have had it for years now, but I was always too afraid to wear it, for fear that my friends would mock me for carrying around a lady's bag. You know these gays. But I decided to finally use the bag so that, when I was mocked, I could say "It's my dead mother's bag!" and run away crying - embarrassing both them and myself with my sense of humor, which is forever macabre. But sadly, no one mocked me. I even tried to bait a couple of friends - Daniel, Chris H. - by asking them their opinion of the bag; but they both merely said they liked it.

I did notice that, while I was using the bag, I got into a fight with a friend, which could very well mean that it is possessed by the spirit of my famously mean mother. Or it could mean that this Friday the 13th was too big to be contained by just one day, and spilled out over into Saturday. Oh, well. My regular bag should be dry by this afternoon, so my latest foray into mother-obsession, demon-baiting, and casual transvestitism will now come to an end.