bagged

I've been pondering a bag purchase. My handbag has been titchy, of late. I've been eyeing my stylish friend Ciara's, which is a big green one with outsize eyelets round the edge, threaded with a scarf. It looks like it might contain giant storybooks with come to life pictures, and a hat stand.

I fancied something that would hold a book, a bit of shopping, nappies and wipes, a toy, etc. So in Dundrum, I went to Accessorize, so boldly, and found it, though not til I'd looked all round, rejected everything, and then saw it in the window.

I knew it had to be right when the petite Italian homosexual behind the counter in Monsoon muttered, in his cliched accent 'oh, what a beautiful bag' and seemed moved, out of his usual surliness, by its beauty. He knows better than me, I reckon.

He whipped out the crumpled pink tissue supporting it, and rewrapped it in a sheet of pristine pale pink tissue, respectfully.

Funny little man in his sweater and shirt, and perfect hair. I'm sure he's somebody's dream boat. He endeared himself to me with his love of bags on Friday.