tumi

So I am in the parking garage by school, digging through my bag for my keys. Again.

I have a tumi bag. Tumi bags have way too many pockets. I’ve wasted many flustered hours in the parking garage, dumping my bag – legal pads and highlighters flying … and here I am again. Dammit.

I usually find my keys after 5 minutes or so, but not this time. I’m fumbling through my bag and about to let out a Charlie-Brown style ARGG! when my ziplock bag of carrots pops open and unleashes a horde of cut carrots onto the parking ramp.

The chopped carrots race the ramp. Passersby dodge the carrots and avoid eye contact lest I’m as crazy as I look. This is shaping up to be a pretty solid fail moment.

So, after 10 minutes and two bag dumps, I feel defeated and head back across the street to the law school.

It was only when I got inside the law school that I realize:

1. It’s cold outside.
2. I came to school with a jacket.
3. My jacket is in my locker, and
4. My keys are probably in my jacket.

Well hot damn.

I had lunch at the Purple Onion to make myself feel better.

And yes, the parking ramp was still covered in carrots when I came back.