A man who held his wife’s handbag for a few minutes while she popped to the loo felt so thoroughly emasculated it was as if his genitals had been ripped off, made into perfumed soap and slathered all over his face.
Simon Williams and his wife Karen were waiting for a train after an evening meal in central London. As sometimes happens to people with bladders, Karen needed a wee.
Not wishing to expose her handbag to the utter filth of a public toilet she asked Simon to hold it for her.
“I guess it was for about two minutes,” said Simon. “But my god it felt like forever.
“I obviously didn’t hold it by the handle but grabbed it in a very manly way, like a rugby ball. The trouble was its bright pink colour – it still seemed very handbaggy.
“I put it on a nearby bench where I could keep an eye on it without any direct association. But then a member of station staff shouted ‘Whose handbag is this?’
“I’d never have heard the end of it if Karen had come back from the toilet to discover her bag had been destroyed in a controlled explosion. I had to rush over and say ‘Mine! That’s my handbag!’
“Then a train pulled in alongside the platform. Hundreds of eyes were staring at me clutching my handbag.
“‘Look at that guy carrying a handbag,’ they must have been saying to each other. ‘He’s not a real man. I bet he drinks Diet Coke and watches ITVBe’.
“I might as well have been wearing a dress and stockings.”
To Simon’s horror a group of young lads got off the train right in front of him. “Alright darling?” one of them said to him. “Nice handbag.” Simon chuckled nervously as if he shared the joke and was in no way having a crisis of identity.
The laughter of the youths was still ringing in his ears when Karen returned. He must have his revenge.
“Think I need a wee too,” he said. “Could you hold my… cufflinks?”
Ha! See how she liked it.