Good Morning, Louie.

So I have this spot in the break room at work.  I go to it, oh, 3 or 4 times a week with my trusty laptop and converse with you.  A little laminate table, a chair molded from black plastic, both tucked into a corner where I can spread out my stuff and unobtrusively observe the world….or,  at least, unobtrusively observe my 20 or so coworkers show up for the day.  My sugar-free latte, my poppy seed muffin; my laptop, my phone.  Thus begins another workday in the Spokane Valley.

 

As I stared at a blank screen and picked poppy seeds out of my teeth, Coworker Kim shows up.  Coworker Kim is easily the most fashionable lady in the office, platinum blonde hair with a fresh Mexico tan and today, the coolest wool coat I think I’ve ever seen.  I was remarking on said coat, the usual morning chitchat, and my wandering eye drifted to her handbag.  This is when the planet stopped turning and people started falling off. 

 Louis Vuitton.  Kim has a Louis Vuitton.

I sucked 90% of the oxygen out of the room and pushed my eyes back into their sockets.   “Is that a Louis Vuitton?”

Kim smiled that little smile that only a kindred-expensive-handbag-soul can.  “Yes.”

 
“Is that a REAL Louis Vuitton?”

“Yes.” And just when I thought she couldn’t get any cooler, Kim slides her hand into that sweet brown leather and pulls out a matching LV wallet.

Lips quivering, hands shaking, you all know my next question.  “Can I touch it?”  I touched an L, I touched a V.  If the bag wasn’t 10 years old, I would have shoved my entire head into it and huffed the leather.

Now I need a ciggie.  It’s gonna be a great day, friends.