The Asshole Bag

Jeff has always been the spender in our marriage. Not because I hate ever spending money, but because he loves it so much that if I did as well, we would be completely broke. So, I pinch pennies and clip coupons and dole out warnings about the status of our checking account just to make up for his spending habits. It’s not fun, but someone has to do it..

Yes, I am a martyr. And, also a bit of nag. But, I have no choice!

Anyway, last week Jeff was an asshole. Admittedly, I have been a tad tough to take lately, between the hunger pains thanks to my annual January diet and the anxiety attacks over my book, but still. He was indisputably an asshole. In fact, he was such an asshole, that I was forced to take some action.

Did I want to emotionally eat a brownie? Nah.

Dull my anger with a glass or two of wine? Eh.

Run around the neighborhood? Snort.

My heart was beating out of rage and my butt, firmly planted on the couch. How could I quietly take out my anger on him, right then and there?

And, then it hit me: I could shop..

I’ve been looking for a new bag for several months, comparing prices and fabrics and sizes. Leather? Fabric? Slouchy? Stiff? There was so much to consider that I hadn’t been able to make a decision, but at the moment, none of it mattered. All I wanted to do was violently hit “purchase” and eagerly await the UPS truck. It was totally out of character and a complete rush. For the first time in my entire life, I actually felt pleasure rather than guilt over making a purchase. It felt great. Dangerously great.

Take that, asshole, I thought. Let’s see how you like being on the other side of things for a change..

The bag arrived yesterday. I was admiring it and plotting for a possible revenge shoe purchase the next time he got on my nerves when Jeff walked in from work..

Is that the new bag? he asked.

Yes, I gloated, and I love it. So there!

It looks nice on you, he responded. Good choice..

You’re not supposed to like it, I hissed, as my previously exciting and highly anticipated bag transformed into nothing more than an overpriced, frivolous purchase.

The leather suddenly looked dull and it didn’t fit in the crook of my arm quite as comfortably as it had before. It was just… a bag. One that didn’t seem worth it in the least. I let it fall back into the box, defeated. Today it will travel back to the warehouse where it came from and that will be the end of that.

Asshole.