Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Hilary and the magic BOTTEGA VENETA purse -

a story of greed, obsession, and unreasonable cruelty against friends.
so, hilary decides to drop by while she's in town on a buying trip,
(that's what they call it in retail.  also known as "comp shopping". also known as being paid to shop the competitors and see what they're doing.  also known as boondoggle.)
and she came sweeping in as usual,
all smiles and stories,
gossip and goodness,
and plopped this down on the sideboard as she swanned over the bar:
now you all know me by now.
i'm not impressed in the least by material things.
i much prefer things like character, and integrity.
but when a material object happens to be shagreen, heavy as a brick,
studded with stones and made by hand in the bottega veneta workshops in italy . . .
it gave me pause.
also, it matched the sideboard.
i struggled, gentle readers with an unknown feeling.
it was lust, but lust for an object, not a hot piece of ass.
and you know me,
i'm not about objects.
(note i didn't deny the lust thing.  i'm also honest with you.)
so i looked into hilly's kind eyes and newly blonde framed face,
at how she and tim were laughing and downing coctails at east/west,
and thought
"friendship.  that's what really matters in this life.  good, solid friendship."
i mean, look how cute they are!
so hilly went to the restroom to powder her nose
(no, that is not a euphemism for a drug fueled snow party in the girl's room.  that i know of.)
and there we were.
and tim.
and a half pound glistening lump of satan's handiwork,
whispering to me
"precious, my precious"
how did the evening end?
i'll let you draw your own well educated conclusions . . .

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