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get a dainty, little purse that you have to hold in your hand, in which case you live your whole life with only one hand available, giving the world a head start on beating you with, literally, one hand tied behind your back!! Or you can get one of those big old shoulder bags which hurt like hell and leave deep red welts on your skin and I’m certain it throws your spine out of alignment, so you end up in a panic about getting osteoporosis. And you spend all your time worrying and your money on calcium supplements, WHICH DO NO GOOD ANYWAY, BECAUSE YOU JUST KNOW YOU’LL END UP WITH A HUMP AND ALL YOUR DRESSES ARE GOING TO LOOK LONGER IN THE FRONT!! OF COURSE YOU CAN ALWAYS GET A KNAPSACK—BUT THEN, PEOPLE JUST THINK YOU’RE A LESBIAN!! I’D LIKE TO GET MY HANDS ON THE FILTHY, MISOGYNIST MOTHERFUCKER—I’DLIKE TO MURDER WHOMEVER THE PRICK WAS THAT INVENTED THE HANDBAG!!
    (She composes herself a bit) I’ve strayed.
    As I was saying, I was at Times Square when I realized that I’d forgotten my handbag. I start to feel a little dizzy. And nauseous. I hadn’t had anything to eat. I haven’t eaten in days—I don’t like to keep any food in the house because it attracts roaches and I just end up eating it when I shouldn’t. I hadn’t been hungry all week. But all of a sudden I was very hungry, famished, starved! I wasn’t sure if I could make it back to the diner on my corner without fainting. I had to eat something! I had sixteen cents in my pocket. So . . . I loitered at a hot dog stand. Now, I try not to eat hot dogs because of the nitrites, but at this point they weren’t hot dogs, they were IVs! They were plasma! They were bread and water! AND THEY COST A DOLLAR TWENTY-FIVE!
    I tried looking sweet and pathetic, like the poster for Les Miserables : I let a tear come to my eye and looked to heaven . . . (She does so) But the man selling the hot dogs ignored me completely!
    So I tried flirting with him. Subtly. I wet my lips and held my arms in a way that I thought accentuated my bust. (She does so) He smiled, at me, lewdly , and I saw that what few teeth he had in his head were the khaki color of dead leaves! I was dizzy and sick and swooning, but I wasn’t ready to sell myself to this fetid extortionist for a dollar twenty-five’s worth of pig snouts and feet!
    I was sure there were other vendors, kinder souls who’d take pity on me . . . and so I headed south! Back to my corner, back to the diner, back to the hateful waiter and my purse. At first I kept my eyes on the pavement, searching all the while for a nickel, a dime—a subway token I could barter . . . . Then I noticed . . . my hand was out, in front of me . . . my palm was up. I wasn’t begging, per se. But if someone wanted to give me their spare change, whoam I not to help them purge their guilt?! FORD DID THIS TO ME! HE REDUCED ME TO THIS! I HATE HIM!
    But I did my best: groveling, begging, looking wan—but the competition was fierce! I was surrounded, on all sides, by people so disfigured by their misfortune I was certain I’d stumbled onto the set of a Fellini film! A woman on my right had no shoes. I felt badly for her, until I realized that a man on my left had no feet! He was chasing me on a skateboard, spitting and shouting at me in a language I didn’t recognize—but I gather I’d been working his turf—so I ran. I ran ahead, the traffic swimming in front of me! I no longer wanted to eat! I didn’t want to see Binky! I wanted my purse! And my key! And my bed! And a bath! I ran forward! Every block I survived was a victory! And then I made it!
    It was across the street. Home! I was standing on the corner, surrounded by what seemed to be hundreds of children all wild and loud and out of control, and under the care of ONE adult with a badge from the Chelsea Day School. The sun was so hot! I was sure I standing under an enormous magnifying glass! And