in desperate times

In compensation for our collapsing dignity and self-respect we find ourselves engaged in acts of escalating grandiosity—leaving preposterous tips or paying extravagant compliments—in hopes that someone might find us bearable, but then lashing out if they did, knowing they were wrong and such is life.

What the fuck do you have in it?

 A cough drop, some mint, candy, petty cash, a cigarette, a lighter, hand sanitiser, a toothpick, stamps, fresh wipes and these are only a fraction of what I have in my purse. Why such a big purse you ask, what the fuck do you have in it? Most of the time I don’t answer. Sometimes, I nod my head, I smile, a short laugh “ha ha” a chuckle as if someone just told me a joke. If they were to persist, I’ll show them all that I have, I’ll probably even explain why I need all that stuff on me all the time. But, people don’t usually ask such questions; they think it’s intruding your private space. So, I don’t bother. A casual smile, a short laugh, a chuckle, awkward silence and we move on to the next subject.

  The fact is all that I have in my purse is carefully chosen so I’ll always be prepared. Everything is there so I can be at an advantage at the moment of truth. Actually, that’s not true. I have all of this so I am not disadvantaged at the moment of truth. Because really what kind of advantage will a cough drop or a stamp give you. There is always a store you can hop off your car and get all that is there in my purse. But, think of this…what if the one I utterly adore with all my heart, no, not even that. What if a charming lad whose smile will take my breath away or just a regular looking girl or someone utterly ordinary asks me for a stamp, well…not even ask, what if this person just stood there in front of the red post box biting into their lip, scratching their head on a rainy day with an envelope in their hand wonders if I, standing right next to them knew if the post office will open in an hour or if I knew where they could buy a stamp and then coughs, without a clue that the rain dripping from his hair is dampening the envelope, desperate and edgy looks around and in that moment, that moment of truth you wouldn’t ask me “why such a big purse, what the fuck do you have in it?” instead, you’ll smile and be grateful for the stamp, the cough drop and I’ll deal anything for that smile. That entrancing smile when I offer you that cigarette on a cold rainy eve, the delight in your eyes when you hear your envelop flop down safe in that box. I’ll trade it all. Now, you won’t ask me “what the fuck?” instead you’ll ask “what else do you have in there?” I’ll probably answer without hesitation “everything you’ll ever need”, “my love, everything you’ll ever need”. You’d think am crazy, but I’ll wait for that awkward silence and then laugh… a loud laugh. “am kidding” I say…”I need all of that, you never know”. That comforts you. So, there…I carry all of this for that slight chance, not big, not even probable but it’s a very slight chance at happiness that will come along from strangers or friends. For happiness that I can say “yes” to and welcome it than say ‘sorry, I don’t have a cigarette/toothpick/stamp/coughdrop/candy/lighter/mint” my purse carries a slight chance of saying yes and not sorry.