Tuesday, 15 November 2016

Tin

Friends of mine are celebrating their ten year wedding anniversary. That means that it's ten years since my most pointless and impotent act of rebellion.

Their wedding was in Florida, and as I was the best man I had little choice but to buy an airfare, accommodation, a present and (after the dry cleaners destroyed mine) a new summer suit. What really annoyed me was that I had to find a way to get my effects and my suit, uncrumpled, to another continent. I used to recognise my luggage on the carousel by having such an ugly bag that no one else would pick it up, or by tying something garish around it. When I owned my own combination suit-carrier-and-grip I realised that I had forever lost my youth. To distinguish it from the other characterless luggage I bought a load of patches from a leather jacket place and spent two nights with needle and thread sewing on cannabis leaves, confederate flags and rock band logos. It didn't make me feel any younger.

Richard "Club International Club, International" B

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