You know me. I start about a million stories and never finish them. But what can you do. New things annoy me and I have to discuss them.
So today on Joe. My. God. I saw this post. Men With Baggage.
It’s innocuous enough. It’s a post about men who carry murses. His photo and the post were pulled from The Daily News.
I’d never even heard of a murse before. What the fuck is a murse? And who decided to call it this?
After reading the article, the post and the comments I’m still not sure if I carry a murse, although I’m pretty sure that I do.
What I didn’t know was that it was such an important issue. I also didn’t realize it made one gay as the other articles I googled seemed to say. I didn’t know carrying a 50 dollar messenger bag made me gay. I’d have saved a trillion dollars in therapy if someone had just told me that years ago. Carry a messenger bag: gay. Don’t carry a messenger bag: Not gay. Of course based on the research I did today on the train and the street I’d say about 75% of the men in NYC are gay. The other 25% is probably also gay but for some reason left their murse at home.
One of the funnier comments on Joe.My.God was the person (or three) who said that if you needed a murse to carry your things around you had too much stuff to begin with.
And my point.
When I leave my apartment tomorrow, I’ll be gone for about 12 hours. I have a 30 minute commute one way. An hour commute in the other direction. I have to run to the post office. The bank. The pharmacy. If I were more motivated I’d go to the gym as well.
And so when I leave my apartment tomorrow I HAVE to have the following: My work pants. Shirt. Apron. Shoes. Pens. My journal. My Ipod. My book. The New York Times. The money I made tonight that has to go in the bank tomorrow. The mail I have to mail. When I finish at the pharmacy, I’ll have the prescriptions I picked up, deodorant, toothpaste, and a card for Adam.
I need all of these things and I haven’t even gotten to work yet.
So then I work.
And then I leave work. If I’m meeting friends for drinks after I have to cart all of the above mentioned things with me. At 4:00 a.m when I get home, I’m exhausted, and tired and I’m still carrying all the shit with me.
If I lived anywhere else in the country, I’d just leave it all in the car till the next morning.
I challenge anyone to live in NYC (or any other public transit city) and not carry a bag. The only people I know who don’t, live about three blocks from where they work and play. Everyone else, and I mean everyone else carries a bag. Some of them are cheap. Some of them are expensive. But they all carry a bag.
So my question is this. Why do we need to call it a murse. It seems to me to carry some derogatory meaning. I carry my bag. Either my backpack, or my messenger bag. Neither of them define me. Make me who I am. Etc. Maybe I’m just tired. But it annoyed the hell out of me today.
Beside you know anyone who’d make fun of this guy’s murse?
I’m just saying!