Jun 11 2008

Forgettable

Published by at 11:13 am under Uncategorized

Ah, the perils of new handbags.

When I put on my professional persona and go to the City, I usually carry a quite splendid bag which, rumor has it, was featured in Elle this past spring. I got it from the fabulous handbag store in my fabulous friend K’s beautiful, historic town. You have to love a town that has a hangbag store. It’s faux crocodile (why not? I’m a faux adult) with a patent leather finish and wonderful, heavy pewter fittings. It was a little on the cher side, but the Creepy Handbag Guy gave me a great deal, as he usually does, and I carry it so often that it was worth every dollar.

However, I got a new one for my birthday, so I couldn’t wait to use it, along with the new lipstick from, appropriately enough*, my friend, The Lipstick Gardener.

Off I went, with my new lipstick on and my new bag in hand. BART was uneventful, other than a passel of unruly schoolchildren who vastly outnumbered their keepers. I got to the office and realized I didn’t have my photo ID, which allows me to pass through to the elevators. So I had to sign in and show the security guy my driver’s license.

Once on our floor, I asked the receptionist which conference room I had for my meetings that day. Well, I had neglected to mention the meetings to him, so all but the smallest room were booked. Going to drop off the handbag that caused all the trouble in the first place, I discovered that I had also forgotten the key to my office door.

It’s a wonder I remembered to transfer my wallet to the new bag.

The receptionist opened the door for me, smiling handsomely and keeping his thoughts to himself.

At the first meeting, the guy gently reminded me that we had planned to conference in two others at his office in Boston, but there was no phone in the littlest conference room. The receptionist kindly remedied this, and undoubtedly regaled his friends with tales of Suzy later that evening. At this point, I noticed that I didn’t have a pen…

It was that kind of day.

*Even more appropriately, it’s called “Party On”. I love it when make-up has names – I’m always slightly disappointed if it only has a number. I think it would be a great job for a frivolous girl like I to come up with make-up names.

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