When Vicky Pryce, (50% of the most unlikeable couple in Britain along with ex Chris Huhne.) had her bag searched in prison they found £1450 in cash which she didn’t know was there. This isn’t money in her purse mind you. This was loose money rolling about her handbag. Apparently there was £100 worth of loose change alone, the rest made up by notes. Can you imagine how heavy that must have been?
Putting aside the sheer weight of the bag, how can you not know you have that much money? I almost always know exactly how much money I have in my bag because it’s almost always nothing. I tend to immediately spend any cash I have. It’s like I hate it, or I am living every day in a Brewster’s Millions reality, except in my case it’s Laville’s Tenner. My money tends to be virtual, which can be a pain when you get to a parking meter or one of those trollies which requires a pound deposit.
I’m not quite sure of the point of the trolly deposit. If you wanted a trolly, a pound seems like a more than reasonable price, even a bit of a bargain, especially as you also take the pound away with the trolly. I’m sure it could be extracted again with careful application of a big massive hammer. Win, win.
I digress. The Vicky Pryce thing made me wonder what’s in my handbag. I’ve done some research about types of handbag ownership, which took me minutes to make up so please show it the respect it deserves.
Basically there are three types of handbag owners.
Type A – The faithful. Has just one bag that they use for all occasions.
Type B – The serial monogamist. Has a few bags for different occasions, however the contents aren’t interchangeable except for a few crucial items, phone, purse, medication, signed photo of Rupert Graves.
Type C- Bag slut. Changes bag regularly, each time simply pouring the contents of old bag into the new one.
Then there are people who just have pockets because they are; a fella, don’t have small children or are ok with not being fully prepared at all times for a hostage situation.
I suspect that Vicky Pryce is type A. If she ever had poured her bag contents into another bag, she probably would have noticed the 20 minutes of raining cash.
I’m type B. I have a bag for the school run, one for shopping, one for ‘posh events’ and one general bag for when I give up and leave the house before I’ve managed to remember where I’m supposed to be going.
Two of these bags are plastic carriers and none have a workable zip.
I have long forgotten what’s in these bags so I’m going to empty them out in the hope of finding a monkey. Either £500 or an actual monkey – equally as unlikely, equally as welcome.
In various bags I have – A purse containing cards – no cash, 6 receipts, two hand creams, one lip balm, one lip gloss, one inhaler (blue), one packet of polos, a breath spray, a deodorant roll on, perfume, a tape measure, 8 antiseptic wipes, a broken watch, instructions for Transformer toy, pair of gloves and a pen.
What does this say me about me? Well I either am quite smelly, or have a fear of being perceived as smelly and I clearly can’t abide hand or lip dryness. Other than that it’s a bit of a disappointment really, I was expecting something a bit more indicative of my personality which would lead anyone who knows me would be able to identify as being a bag which obviously belongs to me. Like my passport perhaps.
It also seems worryingly sparse of the life essentials that I confidently assumed were in there, OK, I’ve got the anti-septic wipes, but I’m pretty sure they’re for swabbing zits rather than treating injury. There are probably several situations which I would not have walked into had I have known that my bag was so poorly stocked. Had I known that my bag didn’t ‘have my back’ at all, would I have been so bold? Not a single torch, Swiss army knife or first aid kit. Nothing which could double up as a weapon if need be. Christ there isn’t even a book in there. I’m not even adequately equipped for a simple waiting-for-a-bit scenario.
But wait, what’s that there winking at me amongst the receipts? It’s 50p I didn’t know I had. Success, this exercise was definitely worth it, even if I missed a few deadlines and now have to hoover the carpet.
To the shops.