Coach Purse

Megan and Colton aren’t buying the house. California is just too damn expensive, but then again, so is a Coach purse. Megan needs to feel better. Megan shops to feel better. Megan buys another Coach purse to feel better about not being a homeowner. Megan spends $328 on a purse and tells Mom, “Oh, once you have one of these, Mom, all you will want are Coach purses.”

Megan and Mom get home from shopping. Bryce asks, “What’d you buy?”

Megan lifts the Coach out of the bag. The bag is in shades of brown and has the trademark ‘C’ all over the inner lining.

“How much was that?” Bryce asks.

Megan suppresses a giggle. There is a slight lean to her mouth and a raised eyebrow that tell Bryce she is not excited to tell him the price, but she still has pleasure in doing so.

“C’mon, how much, Megan?” Bryce inquires again.

“Three hundred and twenty-eight.”

Bryce is having a hard time being polite.

“Three hundred and twenty-eight dollars?”

A guilty smile and a small nod accompany Megan’s, “Mm hmm.”

Bryce doesn’t know where to start, so he doesn’t. There are so many reasons this is wrong, disgusting, and sad. All he can muster is, “That’s ridiculous.”

Bryce thinks of what this means. The words consumerism, materialism, greed, lust, and Californication come to mind. He thinks a little more and ‘therapy’ comes into his mind. Is this beyond ‘therapy’? There must be something that can reverse this, like the Rogaine for shoppers and spenders. Whatever it is, it needs to be more powerful than everyone in Megan’s immediate family telling her that the Coach purse is not going to make her feel better or solve anything.

Bryce realizes a Coach purse does solve something, the problem of being a homeowner; it just gets rid of that option.