Bag Lady

This morning on the way home from the gym (quick question: how many of my entries have started this way?), I stopped at the vet’s to pick up a bag of dog food (it’s a delicious alternative to granola, if you add raisins and a few nuts), and cradled its 20-pound heft in my arms in order to easily transport it the third of a mile back to my digs.
Now, this is New York City, and no one should think twice about doing anything even slightly out of the ordinary, right? So why were tourists (and for some reason there were a lot of ’em out today around 10:00 a.m.) looking at me as if I were the wackiest chick this side of Margaret Cho?
“Oh, look. She’s carrying a big bag of what I think is dog food!” one said. “And she’s walking with it! Quick, take a pixture!”
“Please, no photos,” I said. “If you’ll just turn to your left you’ll see a man dragging a huge wooden cross down Broadway. I’m not completely sure, but I think he may be that Christ fellow you hear so much about.”
The cross guy is out all the time. I barely even notice him anymore. There’s a woman who walks around with wings affixed to her back, even when it’s not Hallowe’en. (Perhaps she removed them for that special occasion and just walked around with a backpack?) There’s a lady with bright red lipstick smeared across her mouth the way a little girl would when playing dress-up. There’s the semi-naked guitar-playing cowboy guy up by Times Square. And, of course, all manner of other freaks, lunatics, and sundry wackos.
There’s also a trainer at the gym who I think is trying to do something to make himself stand out from the rest. I’m pretty sure he wants to be known as “That Crazy Trainer Who Wears Two Different Shoes”. It would be endearing if only he were out of his mind. But because he is sane, it’s not cute. It’s annoying.
“Oh, look. You’re wearing two different shoes!” someone no doubt has pointed out.
“Yes,” he has probably responded. “And I have another pair just like it at home!”
Get the hook. Take his life, please.
So I was thinking. If walking while carrying a big bag of dog food can produce such a commotion, maybe I should make it part of my schtick. Maybe it can be my “thing”. That one thing that sets me apart from all the wannabes, has-beens, and never-weres. Eh?
You see, I really want an affectation too. I think I can pull it off, given that the
tests I underwent earlier this week revealed that I am 72% “off my rocker” (that’s the scientific term). What I want to do is lug that bag around town every day, without the benefit of a shopping cart or a stroller. I want to just cradle it in my arms the way I did today, occasionally dress it up in something cute (Baby Gap is fabulous!), and walk around town as yet another wacky, zany New Yorker.
What do you think of Mama’s new bag?