The Bag Lady

Roaming the city through narrow cobbled stones streets with my belongings, I admit I am a ‘bag lady’.

I carry everything I can in different bags, from small to large including plastic.  

Like a turtle carrying its home on its back, I am free to go wherever I please.

All the essentials are there: keys, make-up, combs, candies, Tylenol, scissors, plates, glasses, of course a bottle of water, some wine too and if I am lucky, a bottle of vodka, Stolishnaya (my favorite).

Sometimes, the bags get too heavy, so I grab a trolley at a supermarket.  It’s better for my arthritis. 

People pass me by and stare, I smile readjusting my sunglasses.  I found these sunglasses at a bin in a park.  Sometimes I get lucky rummaging the bins.

It’s like a treasure hunt, one can find everything in bins, from clothes to food: Leftover pizzas, burgers, half-eaten chocolate bars, although I’m not too fond of chocolate. You’d be surprised at how much wasted foods there is! 

I much prefer lollipops, the strawberry or cherry kinds, when I find one, I enjoy sitting on a bench, take my time and lick it, making sure to spread the artificial color evenly on my lips so that they get red, it’s better than lipstick. If you’ve not tried it, do so.

I don’t really pay attention to what I wear, in Winter, I put layers and layers so I don’t get cold and in Summer, I dress lightly.  One thing for sure, I have good socks and shoes, they must be comfortable because I walk a lot.

Heads turn when I pass by because I may appear scruffy and rundown.

‘Look at her, poor thing’

The mother is talking to her child.

‘Do you think she’s homeless?’

‘Tttt,ttt, what a shame our government doesn’t provide for our poor…’

‘I feel sorry for her.’

Sometimes, I hear:

‘How terrible to become like that!’

‘She stinks of alcohol, how pathetic!’

I giggle and take another gulp of vodka.  I enjoy provoking these ‘bourgeois’.

What do they know about me?  Nothing, absolutely nothing and that makes me feel good and superior in a way.

The sun is about to set and I’m getting tired of all the roaming.  Today was a productive one.  I look for my phone, it’s somewhere in one of my bags, I pull it out and dial:

‘Hi Rufus, it’s me.’

‘Yes Madame, are you ready?’

‘Yes, please come and pick me up.’

‘The same place?’

‘Yes at the corner of Bleak and Washington.’

Twenty minutes later, a sleek bottle- green Jaguar stops where I’m standing. Comes out Rufus, impeccably dressed in his uniform with his black chauffeur’s hat and gloves.  He greets me with a smile:

‘I see Madame, you had a productive day!’

‘Do you want a lollipop?’

Politely he shakes his head.  He opens the door and I let myself in.  I enjoy the smell of the beige leather seat as it welcomes me.  I slide in, let go of a deep sigh, my eyes half-closed. Rufus loads the trunk with all my bags. I think to myself:

‘Wasn’t I lucky last year when I rummaged that bin, I found this lotto ticket!’