I have always wanted a messenger bag.
However, as someone with a fancy purse addiction, it is fun to look at options. I enjoy the process. More importantly, I wanted: The perfect messenger bag.
In these instances, experience has taught me to be careful. I have to be discerning or end up with a condo filled with almost perfect messenger bags. Highly uncool.
Then, posted on a local swap-o-rama type page on Facebook. The melding of all things me! Black to go with everything. The perfect size for either computer. A peace sign embroidered with wings. And, OH MY GOODNESS the cherry of cherries on top, it is from one of my favorite places, Starved Rock!
Offered from a woman living in the next town for $10! What a deal!
Did you hear me? I said $10!
But then a phone call took my attention away from my eWindow shopping. (a word I made up) No problem. I’ll come back to it.
About a week went by. The messenger bag called to me, I couldn’t forget about it. should explain, as time goes on items that viewers have no interest in go to the bottom of the marketplace page. I thought I can just scroll down. How hard could it be? (add your narrator voice here) Very hard.
I looked for days! Every time I had a chance. Making myself dizzy. Scrolling scrolling. No other bag would ever do! It had to be MY black, perfect size, peace sign with wings bag from Starved Rock. The bag called out to me! “I’m here! I am your perfect messenger bag! Don’t leave me!”
“I’ll find your perfect messenger bag! Do not fear” I replied. Hopefully not out loud.
Alas, all was lost. But then, I had an idea. About a week ago, without telling anyone. I quietly planned a trip to Starved Rock. I thought I am just going to consider it an expensive lesson. I will pay my idiot tax and buy my own bag.
So that’s what I did. It was a rare and beautiful few days in February. My first stop after getting my room was the gift shop. It was closing. I looked around. Nothing. Dejected, I looked through cheap nylon bags closed by pulling on what looked like a big shoelace.
Back home. “One more look.” I lied to no one in particular. “I promise to only look for 5 minutes then I will get something done.”
Twenty minutes later, a button caught my eye. A search button! Could it be? YES! You can search the page. (Ok, stop eye-rolling, this was a while ago.) I typed the headline of my dreams, Starved Rock messenger bag.
One nanosecond later, there it was. My dreams have come true! I commented on the post! I tried not to sound like a crazy person. I could pick up the bag today!
Flinging my computer out of my way, I rushed to put on some clothes. My hair—flying, my heart—racing. I will not be thwarted. I typed the address into Google. My bag is .7 miles away!
I am happy to report, my life is complete! I give you, dear reader, my perfect messenger bag.
Messenger bags, sans shoelaces
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