The Large Disorganized Handbag
Now I'm not the neatest guy, in fact, I'm probably one of the least-neat people that I know, but the chaos induced by these things is difficult for even me to fathom. From what I can tell, these bags have one large main compartment as well as several smaller side pockets on the inside of them. As far as any sort of luggage goes, that's a fairly standard layout. That said, the way that some women use this space is deplorable. You'd think that it'd be easy to designate one pocket for change, another for kleenex, and another for smallish cosmetics, and so on and so forth.
You'd think that, but you're wrong. Everything goes everywhere! Apparently the goal of these things is to shovel as much random crap into every pocket as one can find. I'm going to see if Louis Vuitton has some sort of downloadable instruction manual for these things on their website. Maybe the manufacturer suggests that, for best results, use total fucking chaos.
There is another facet of these bags that you only witness when observing women standing in line at a shop while holding them. Apparently the manual also instructs the owner not to look in the bag at all until they are at the counter, ready to make a purchase. For best results, don't look for cash, change, credit cards, debit cards, chequebooks, beaver pelts, or any other sort of currency until the minute the cashier rings up your purchase. Evidently such behaviour voids the warranty on these bags.
Now once the bag is opened it appears that a fine mist of a substance that might scientifically be called "retard gas" is sprayed into the face of the owner. This slows their cognitive function to the point where they can't recognize their own wallet and therefore find it in their own handbag. Additionally, retard gas inhibits the ability to count change. As such, it is simply dumped on to the counter and stared at blankly. Everyone around the woman with the bag can tell that there is insufficient change for a given purchase (probably because it's all nickels and dimes), but the bag-owner in question will continue to stare blankly as if their befuddled expression might somehow increase the value of the money on the counter.
This process may continue for a minute or more (eternity in a lineup at a cash register) before any (grudging) attempt is made to locate a credit card or some other payment method. This process requires the bag lady to once again engage the labyrinth of her giant handbag.
Ladies, if you own one of these, ask yourself, what does this product afford you that you couldn't accomplish with a smaller purse-type thing, some pockets, or maybe just accepting that you don't need a whole box of kleenex everywhere you go.