In The Bag

Gmail is crawling with spiders. And spiders freak me out. A friend of mine recently e-mailed me from the airport in Miami, where she was traveling to attend a wedding. Her message — sent wirelessly from her Blackberry to my Gmail account — related a tale of woe. She was still drunk from the night before and carrying a plastic bag someone had given her in the car on the way to the airport when she had turned a shade of green. She feared she was going to be sick. In the plastic bag. She had nothing but this plastic bag with her, and, wobbling through the terminal, she was sure she might vomit in the plastic bag. Happily she made it to a restroom, where she could get sick like a civilized person, and not in a plastic bag. All in all, she used the words plastic and bag, at least six or seven times over the course of this exchange — generally in close proximity to puke.

When you consider the implications and conjure the mental images, the Google Ads on the right side of my screen for “green” reusable plastic bag alternatives, were somewhat sickening. Hopefully, at least, they are washable.

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