Cabana Boy and The Muse do NYC: Part 1

Originally published on MySpace on November 4, 2008.

Cabana Boy: Travels with The Muse

(This is a collaborative effort. The first paragraph is written by Cabana Boy, and the second is written by me, etc…)

“Who else is coming with us?” I asked as The Muse wheeled in the largest suitcase I’d seen in years – the expandable gusset already deployed. “You know we’re only going to be in New York for four days, the other day and a half we’re on an airplane.”

“I’m a girl!” I said, “I need shoes and bags and coats. What if the weather changes?” It was true. My bag was the size of Ford F-150 packed for a 6-month road trip with a family of five. I had packed 2-week’s (okay, well, maybe three) week’s worth of clothing for a 4-day jaunt to New York.

When I travel for business I like traveling light. No checked bags, get in, do the work, get out. The Muse looked a little sheepish and I quickly realized that her mobile Macy’s wasn’t worth picking a fight over. Besides, we had a king sized bed waiting at the Roosevelt Hotel and who knew what secrets this vault of hers would yield up?

Macy’s? Hmph! Nothing but Nordstrom and Sak’s Fifth Avenue in my bag! Well, except for the vintage black wool swing coat I bought at Value Village for $9.99. Hey! This coat once graced the racks of I. Magnin. It says so right on the tag. Anyway, back to the subject at hand: the size of my bag. Size matters when you’re going to NYC.

At The Muse’s recent Sex and the City movie party I was invited to come as Mr. Big – but that’s another story. Guys, just so we’re clear, the I. Magnin wool swing coat wasn’t in the bag, but worn on The Muse’s rather fetching shoulders. Note no mention has been made of the computer or the handbag. We weren’t traveling light; we were prepared for an all out assault.

You can’t wear black shoes with brown pants! I had to bring the black shoes, the brown shoes, the running shoes, the four dresses, seven tops, three hats, three purses (because you can’t carry a brown leather bag when you’re wearing a black and white dress), the red patent leather flats (because I just might not be able to wear the stilettos for more than a New York block). “Honey, do you have a problem with the size of my bag?”

“No, dear, of course not.” I replied. To be continued…



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