Page 28 - KC Cunningham Issue

THE MAN-PURSE THING

By Robert Tussey

The 80’s saw a great change in men. We had begun to shed her pull something out and say, “I’ve been looking for this!”
the ugliness of polyester and disco and traded the dance For how long have you been missing it? And of course the
floor for the bistro. Women were demanding a change. We next words were “I can’t find anything in here.” My thought
became more sensitive and nurturing and took the first pain- was ‘get a smaller purse’ or ‘don’t put so much stuff in there
ful steps on that journey into in the first place.’ But
sentience. It was ok to cry again I got my ego handed
and the chick flick invaded to me after a couple of
our homes and theaters. months when she heard
Meg Ryan. I can’t say any me say, “I can’t find any-
more. thing in here!” I said it with
And the broad appearance verve and confidence.
of the man-purse threw When I looked up Lori and
another curve. Along with Clyde and his wife, Doris,
our Dockers we now faced were laughing uncontrolla-
the spectacle of this innocu- bly. It was another learn-
ous leather pouch tucked ing experience.
under our arms. Most men In the late 80’s I trans-
avoided them while the rest ferred to a job where
of us ground our teeth at the machismo was eaten
“Oh look honey, you should for breakfast. This was
try this. It’ll work with you” grunt-world on speed. The
line while shopping. We conversations were orga-
28 realized the geography of it nized grunts followed by
and silently made notes as some solid posturing and
to where we shouldn’t use it: fanning of our tail feathers.
Sports Bars, pool halls, the Arrgghh. Arrgghh. I was
gym, conferences and sym- the lone guy in the group
posiums ad nauseam. Of that carried a briefcase: I
course there was the strap was the writer and needed
tucked neatly inside with the to have my journal and dic-
crumpled tissue paper and tionary handy. They finally
silicate pack. You mean, this gave me a pass on it, but
thing has a shoulder strap – there were still the corner-
for us? Now the chest swell- of-the-eye looks now and
ing and arm flailing began. then. I gave up the purse
But I acquiesced. Wallet, and grunted blissfully.
keys and a pen were in- Life was grand until I
serted and I always wore retired and found that I
sunglasses while toting my needed to have more stuff
new found accessory (where with me. I got a messen-
were the gold chains when I ger bag; good for the big
needed them?). I thought, I stuff (laptop, et al) but not
can placate Lori by using the for the day to day things.
bare minimum to show her I While shopping at Viejas
could pull this off. My friend Clyde proudly carried his without I went into Wilsons and there it was, The Bag! My name
a worry. He had actually bought his own so I was duty-bound emblazoned and the subtle voice saying ‘you need me, I’ve
to hold my head up high and march Peacock proud through been lonesome.’ Lori knew. She said, “So, you gonna buy
the world - confident in my manliness. His was stuffed with it?” What could I say? I missed the compact convenience:
a world of goodies which prepared him for any circumstance A place for my stuff. By nightfall I had filled it with the neces-
and all I could do was show my drivers license. sities and proudly placed it on the counter, ready for arm-
Understand that a woman’s purse has always been a tucking and sideways glances from the insecure among us.
mystery to men. It wasn’t uncommon to watch Lori rooting I did, however, lose the strap.
through hers (eyes solidly focused into the abyss) and have

March/April 2010