Triumph

Today I executed my first flawless campaign on ebay. Several day ago, I started looking for a small, left-handed, timbuk2 bag. You see, to buy the exact bag I wanted new would cost me $110, plus shipping. This seemed steep, even though everyone I know who's owned one of these bags has loved and abused it to distraction. The bags alway bear such treatment with stoic indifference, and seem to last forever. They also offer certain amenities for the bike commuter - most notably a small strap that clips across the chest to ensure that the shoulder bag does not budge while the wearer pedals furiously through traffic. In my bike travels, I have to constantly adjust my purse so that it's not bumping into my legs. To say nothing of the dangers of distracted, one handed riding, my right collarbone has been slightly raw for weeks.

Yes, that is correct. It's my right collarbone across which my purse strap lies. Which brings me to a previously undiscovered peculiarity in my nature. As all of you who know me well are aware, I am right handed. It would appear, however, that while most right-handed people are left-shouldered, I am not. I am, as proven through a definitive series of tests with Brian's timbuk2 bag, right shouldered. I can't change. It's just the way I am.

Naturally, (and here I get a tiny little glimmer of appreciation for the difficulties lefties face in everyday life) left-handed/right-shouldered timbuk2 bags are rare, and can only be acquired through custom design - hence the hefty price tag.

Ebay had the answer to my problem - a custom bag someone purchased only to receive and dislike the color. They offered it up, unused, for a fraction of its retail price. I spied this rare specimen days out, watched its progress until today, when I logged on to participate in the tense final moments of the auction. With scorn I sat coolly before my laptop as my opponents grew excited and began placing impatient bids ten minutes too soon. Finally, I orchestrated a perfectly timed blow with a mere 15 seconds still on the clock. The guy who almost won the bag never knew what hit him.

I look forward to approaching days of unscathed collarbones and secure commuting.