A Malevolent Blunder

It wasn’t my fault – at least, I don’t think it was… I certainly hope it wasn’t my fault when while walking down to my office cabin, I bumped into someone, spilling the contents of their leather handbag. I suppose you wouldn’t quite call it a handbag; it was more like a tiny, chic little satchel, just big enough to carry a resume and just small enough to parade around like a purse. It was a mixture of a rich cream and off-white, just about suggesting a shade of light brown. It had a neat little buckle right in the centre that must not have been fixed as it failed to prevent the contents of the Gucci bag from flying out of it, sprawling on the floor beside their befuddled owner.

I don’t particularly remember it being my fault but I do remember feeling awfully guilty as I bent down to gather the escaped contents of the purse-bag – whatever it was. They amazed me, those contents. I had always wondered what the inside of a handbag like so would look like, and lo and behold, I was free to look upon it as much as I pleased under the cover of recovering the fallen items. The first thing I saw was the latest, glossy edition of the Devil Wears Prada. I tucked that under one arm.

I then reached for a packet of wet wipes. They were the special sort. The ones which brag of being soft enough for babies and which cost as much as my watch. My hand then reached for the fallen iPhone 5s with a soft lavender cover. It had come alight due to its unfortunate fall and I happened to discreetly notice the background, which was a picture of two men laughing in a clear ‘selfie’ as they call them these days. There was a red heart photoshopped in the picture They must have been from one of those annoying new pop bands, I remember thinking to myself as I gathered the phone.

It was a tiny bottle the colour of blue curacao that startled me a little. ‘Davidoff Cool Water’ it read. ‘Hmm… I thought to myself’, ‘isn’t that a brand for men?’ I promptly pushed the thought aside thinking it must be in fashion these days for women to wear men’s perfume. They had taken to wearing men’s clothes, driving their bikes, doing their jobs, going to their bars, so why not perfume?

I most definitely did NOT want to face an irritated woman. I got enough of that at home, so I tried to set aside these thoughts and replace them with a look of extreme guilt as I solemnly picked up a bottle green comb-cum-hairbrush with an attached mirror.

A driving license caught my eye. I first had a good laugh about it in my head, ‘Ha! Who are they trying to fool by giving women licenses? They can’t make a half decent meal, let alone drive on the streets without killing anyone’. However, there was something strange about this one; something that kept my attention hovering on the picture. It was a picture of a man. One of the men in the selfie with the heart. ‘Timothy Johnson’ it read.

That’s when I actually looked up at the person I had crashed into. He was adjusting his glasses.

15/03/14