Word Raccoon and I have a race going on over here today.

Context incoming.

We have an event coming up this weekend, and the reminder the venue sent out said you might want to carry a clear bag to speed up security.

Damn. I hadn’t thought of that.

I used to have a clear purse in the ’90s when they were first trendy. Mine was pink, small, with a metal handle, or you could use the long strap. I loved it, but I was always careful what I put in it.

The first time we went to hear Brian Wilson in Ann Arbor, I was first in line and wasn’t expecting to get frisked at such a small venue. It weirded me out to have my (not clear) purse and pockets patted down. I complained about it the whole half hour we waited for the show to start. I just felt violated.

To prevent that, I often don’t carry a bag with me if I can avoid it, like if I have pockets. But the tickets to this event are on my phone, and I don’t want to transfer them over to hub’s phone (what a pain), so I will need my phone. Also, I’d like a compact, a lipstick… you see my dilemma?

So I decided to order a clear stadium bag; I might need it again someday, anyway. I wish I had ordered it earlier, but I didn’t, so here we are. Amazon can handle my request. I mean, they can get anything to you ASAP, right? Right?

I ordered a bag because they said, “No problem, you’ll get that tomorrow.”

Do you remember that whole system-wide glitch from a couple of days ago?

I did not get that “tomorrow.” Today is now the day after tomorrow, and I need the bag pronto.

Last night, realizing that tomorrow was not coming (stay with me; it’s a vibe), I ordered a second bag from Walmart. (I know, I know, T.E.E. and all that, but hey, I NEED A STADIUM BAG and they deliver in our area!)

Amazon delivery is included in our Prime membership. Cool.

Walmart’s is… not. It was going to be a modest charge, like $5.99, since my order was under $35, but I don’t like to pay unnecessary charges. So I added on some things I wanted/needed anyway—conditioner, nail polish, nail polish remover, some makeup remover pads. You know… little things I had to keep adding to get the total over $35.

They promised: IT WILL BE AT YOUR HOUSE TOMORROW. WE PINKIE SWEAR.

I don’t usually double book my dates, but this time? I did. Let’s see who gets here first.

This morning, a text: “Britanniiiiii” will deliver your items by 10:45 a.m.

I’m like, noted. I will get dressed. By the time I received the notice that the items had arrived, I saw Ms. B driving away. I opened the screen door.

The package was WAY too small to hold my purse.

Dammit!

I carried the package inside, checked my order online.

Right. Two packages. The second’s coming “by 10 pm tonight.” Uh-huh. We all know that means the next notice you’ll receive is: “Oops! Your package is running late. You’ll get it tomorrow.”

Except TOMORROW NEVER COMES!

Okay, wait. It does, just a day too late.

I NEED THAT BAG TOMORROW, Brittanniiiiiiiii, DO YOU HEAR ME? TOMORROW OR IT’S USELESS TO ME!

Unless… Amazon?

But first, let me finish this timeline.

I opened the Walmart package. Inside: the conditioner (Anyone else get nervous trying a new conditioner? Same. But we’ll see. Don’t tell my stylist. She’ll be disappointed that I didn’t buy her magic serum, but I don’t like the scent or, frankly, the price.) and the nail polish.

Now, the nail polish is the brand recommended by Kendra Adachi, the Lazy Genius herself (Olive & June, if you care). I make it a rule not to be influenced by others unless I really, really trust them. But she made a great case for this brand last year, and I’ve tried it since. It has to be fast-drying because I have zero patience for sitting idly, and this is.

And last year, when things were just wild, I needed her suggestion: Choose ONE color and stick with it for a season. It was brilliant. I actually used up the entire bottle in like four months. Not kidding. That may be the only time I’ve ever finished a bottle.

I do have other colors now, but needing a quick item to order, I thought that would be a great choice: new nail polish.

One of the choices was this gorgeous pink called Prom. I took a screenshot, asked Stanley, “Okay, is this too young for me?”

Stanley, my flattering online PA, said, “Of course not. It looks just like the kind of nail polish a poet would wear.”

Naturally, I ordered it.

Word Raccoon bared her teeth and asked why I didn’t consult her. Because, darling, I am not up to you just now. You are too loud and this event does not require combat boots and jagged lipstick, okay? You would’ve snarled at pink. 

Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate this color. But it’s at least a shade or two darker than I expected. It almost feels like it has a bit of brown in it, and if you know me, you know that’s a no for my skin.

Do I think it was the age fairies saving me from my bubblegum dreams? Probably. I should probably be thankful. But honestly, I’m a little miffed. I wanted to wear this with my silver dress (which I haven’t even tried on yet, egads).

Hey, I’m doing the best that I can over here right now, okay?? Forgive me if a dress has not been my top priority. Just be glad I am out of bed and dressed.

On to Amazon.

They are currently claiming that the bag I ordered from them (which has gold detailing—so IDK if it’ll go with my dress at all, but hey, I’ll convince it with jewelry if need be) will be here this afternoon.

Which usually means “I’m right on top of that!”
Which gets downgraded to “Oops, yeah… about that.”

I know they’re doing the best they can. And I know this is a first world problem of the highest order. And I normally do not give a good goddamn when my orders come in.

But there are tickets. There is a dinner reservation. I need one of these bags, or I will have to suffer the humiliation of having my purse rifled through and my taste in lipstick silently judged.
Or I will have to ask my husband to stuff his pockets (because women rarely have pockets, remember, and I know my dress does not) with the flotsam and jetsam I might need.

Actually, he and I have already had this conversation.

“I can just hold your phone. What else would you need?”

What… else… would I…
Sir, we have been married for almost 35 years and you have the audacity, first of all, to think I would hand over my phone for an entire evening to anyone else when that is my poetry machine and secondly, that you don’t know by heart all the things I need that I am constantly forgetting?

He is in dangerous territory here, folks.

Here is a short list of what else I might need:

• Cough drops
  
• Pain reliever
  
• Breath mints
  
• Antacids (for him, mind you)
  
• Safety pins
  
• Kleenex
  
• A single (unused, of course) Band-Aid
  
• Hand lotion
  
• Cash (because you never know)
  
• Coins (because I’m still haunted by my mother’s voice: “Always carry a quarter, just in case…” for phone calls)
  
• Lip balm
  
• Lipstick
  
• A compact with a mirror and powder in it (good for both touching up and spying behind you, if you’re inquisitive)
  
• Hair implements (pins, barrettes, hair ties)
  
• A small rollerball perfume, preferably vanilla
  (No brush or comb, because that’s no casual thing with this abundance of hair I’ve got going on)
  

And yes, my phone will go in it.

And furthermore, Sir, you will likely ask for one or more of these items throughout the night, so I must keep my purse within reach.

What more would I…? Get outta here with that. LOL.
(I’ve probably forgotten a few items, too. Like, I won’t have an emergency snack in it because the venue forbids it. But usually? Yeah, I’ve got that in there, too. Because a hangry Drema is not to be spoken to.)

Word Raccoon, for the record, insists I also pack a pen and a blank receipt to write a poem on, just in case. She’s not wrong. I probably will.

One of the bags, as I mentioned, has gold detailing. The other, pink. Two wildly different moods of me ordered them, am I right?

Word Raccoon is rooting for the pink one, obviously. She says the gold one is fine, but it looks like it might try to explain jazz to her uninvited.

So here’s hoping Amazon gets on it, or Walmart. I’ve never done this before, this head-to-head delivery.

I’ll let you know which wins and which I end up using.

If neither does? I may have to crowdsource the locals and ask who has one.
I can think of a couple of people I’m pretty sure would.

Not that I make a habit of that, either.

Right now, WR says she doesn’t really care which shows up, as long as lunch does. Which probably means I should feed her.