A little background. I had a general life melt-down about 12 years ago, with a central focus on my apparent ineptitude in some areas of relationships with women, principally my wife at the time. True, things getting extreme was "aided" by a misplaced confidence in modern medicine and heavy doses of the latest "wonder drug" but having an attitude that I used to think was optimism (but now seems more like just wishful thinking) contributed heavily. In any case, it was about five years before I entertained the thought of risking the emotional pain of things not working out in another relationship and, worse, the potential for being a source of emotional pain for others, regardless of my good intentions.
Being in hotels, on business trips, rarely brought the expected distraction of being excited about being in a new and different setting; instead, it mostly left me focusing on how alone I was and what I was looking for in the next relationship. Fortunately for me, at one point a few years ago, I was staying in a rather upscale hotel and it led me to an insight about whether I was limiting my options by expecting to find everything I was looking for in a relationship in an actual human being. Opening the closet door, I reached for the valet service laundry bag and started a new relationship just like that. It was a very attractive bag, slick white (actually quite a bit too pale for my usual taste), hanging upside down and even appearing as if wearing inversion boots--quite edgy. It just hung there not seeming self-conscious at all about what it was doing. I took it out and draped it over the back of a chair. It didn't say anything but, disappointed as I was with that since I'm a very verbal person, I just went with the flow and figured I could do all the talking (it is a laundry bag, after all).
I noticed that it was communicating by way of an attached checklist that was fluttering in the air conditioner breeze. Perfect! It's telling me what it wants or, at least, what my options are, in plain language, in writing, and with me being able to keep a copy for later, apparently so we could compare notes if there was a disagreement/misunderstanding, so neither of us would be reduced to having to remember and have that be a big deal and a source of contention. It had a tattoo--the hotel logo--but I found myself being less judgmental about that compared to my attitude towards tattoos in isolation from what they are attached to. We ended up spending some time together, mostly just going about our business, although sometimes watching television together, with it just staying there draped over the chair, but finally I noticed that, just like that, I was starting to fall for this bag! Ultimately my bubble burst when I noticed that there were PRICES next to that checklist! I immediately felt queasy--I was getting involved with a WORKING bag. Later, it occurred to me that, what the hell, I do things for money too; I guess we all just do the best we can with what we've got. I did bring the bag home with me but I knew this relationship was over. That's where Nancy came in.
As always, I keep my best friend, Nancy, up to date on my love life, or lack thereof. I talked to her about the prostitute bag and how it had opened my eyes to new possibilities. She suggested that I should still consider relationships with women to supplement any relationship I might have with a plastic bag but was happy for me nonetheless. Unbelievably (okay, not really because she comes up with this kind of stuff all the time), a few days later a package arrives in the mail from her. She'd found and sent me a very attractive cloth bag, much more my speed in overall appearance and demeanor, and with NO price list attached! It doesn't talk either but what an amazing bag! This could work out. Here are the captioned photos:
It's a magic bag! When I got
home, I found it had arranged
itself like a chef's hat on the
TV. We had a good laugh over it.
We communicated more and I've
learned that "it" is a
female and she has excellent
keyboarding skills as well as IT savvy.
"Baggy" is very domestic.
Here she's cooking my dinner.
What a great bag!
What's that noise so early in
the morning? It's Baggy
vacuuming! This is really turning
out well.
Baggy does have a troubled side; in
fact we share the fork biting
phobia. Here, I found her in the
kitchen, just in time.
Baggy can't get enough of
bicycling even when it's just
hanging on the wall. I think
I'm falling in love.
