…or the problem of the bag of infinite hiding. Every now and then I buy a new handbag, and it’s great. It stands tall and strong, and contains only a few important items – wallet, phone, swipe card, lip balm – and I can find whatever I want in it, in seconds. Gradually, though, it starts to sag a little, and acquires a few more objects – still useful, but not vital – tissues, hair ties, a packet of mints. Finding something I need in there becomes a little more of a challenge – muttering under my breath as I move things from one side of the bag to the other. As the months pass, the lining starts to pull away and sags into the middle, and new stuff appears that must once have been useful but no longer – five pens (two broken, two red), old receipts, a used hankie, a pair of gloves, movie tickets – and now every time you need to find something in there it’s a huge mission. You might try and root around in it briefly while it’s still hanging over your shoulder, but you soon give up, put the bag on the ground, and start brutally taking things out one by one, putting them on any handy surface as you do – bed, footpath, shop counter – until you find the article you need. The last stage after this is when your lovely handbag has completed the transformation into the bag of infinite hiding. Now nothing can be found unless the entire bag is emptied out onto the floor, accompanied by much swearing. Time to go handbag shopping again.
