Not long ago I wrote a column entitled, “What every woman needs to have in her handbag” in which I talked about a friend of mine who carries a huge, ear-piercing whistle in her purse in case she is ever accosted on the street by a strange or suspicious-looking man with less than honorable intentions. As a young woman she had her purse stolen from her in broad daylight and she was determined never to let that happen again. I told her she had been watching too many old English movies where you could blow a whistle and the police would actually come running, but she said just having the whistle in her handbag made her feel safer, and we both agreed that was the important thing. Anyway, I thought I had pretty much covered the subject, but apparently not, as a woman called me the other day to inform me that I had only touched the tip of the iceberg.
“My purse has actually evolved into more of a suitcase,” the nice lady explained to me over the phone, “and would you like to hear just some of the things I carry in it?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Well,” she said, taking a deep breath as if she was preparing herself for a very long sentence, “at the present time, the staples in my purse include an eyeglasses repair kit, a small flashlight, my buck knife, a 12-foot tape measure, lots of Kleenex – both fresh and used, a first aid kit complete with iodine and lots of Band-Aids, sanitary wipes and an anti-bacteria spray, a couple of different kinds of hand lotions, at least two small notebooks, my Flair pens, a couple of calculators since you never know when one of them is going to stop working, my iPad of course, my cell phone – which at least replaces the address book and the small photo albums of the children that I used to never leave home without, a sewing kit with scissors, and a pouch of office supplies like paper clips, hi-lighter, a mini-stapler and staple remover, a glue stick, stamps and a pack of sticky notes. Then there is also the gum, breath-mints and assorted candies that are always necessary to have on hand, as well as travel toothpaste and a toothbrush, bottles of my two favorite perfumes, lots of Chapstick, a hairbrush and plenty of hair clips, my change purse, although the change people give me always somehow ends up in the bottom of my purse, and my wallet, which is usually stuffed with countless receipts of one kind or another instead of money. Let’s see – what else. Oh, my glasses of course – the regular ones, my sunglasses and also my reading glasses in case I lose a contact lens. The contact lens case and kit, a pouch of feminine hygiene supplies, hand-warmers in the winter, packages of Tylenol and anti-acids, eye drops, nose spray, hair spray, a card-case which houses all of my frequent shopper/rewards cards, nail files, nail clippers and clear nail polish, lots of envelopes stuffed with various things, an extra pair of panty hose in case I get a run in one of them at work, the current paperback book I am reading on my breaks, shopping lists and a couple of plastic shopping bags that can come in handy in all kinds of ways, a small roll of duct tape, key rings that have keys on them that I no longer know what they were used to open, and matches and a lighter in case someone asks me for one of them, even though I no longer smoke. A can of Mace spray, my son’s old miniature Pound Puppy, which is kind of like a good-luck charm, anxiety medication, some spare underwear that my mother always insisted I have in my purse, various drug prescriptions which I always forget to fill, brochures of one kind or another, paint sample cards for the kitchen and bathrooms which have needed to be painted for years, shopping circulars and lots of different kinds of coupons, and lots of interesting articles and recipes I have cut out of newspapers and magazines.”
“Is that it?” I asked as she finally took a moment to catch her breath.
“Oh,” she quickly added, “and a dog leash just in case I see a dog running free who needs to be rescued before a car comes along and hits it.”
“Wow,” I said, “that’s quite a purse you have there!”
“And do you want to know the words my husband lives in fear of me saying?” she asked with a smile in her voice.
“Sure,” I said.
“It’s in my purse – just go look for it!”