Loving Men-Put

When we drop anchor, we want to stay put.

This morning I did something I haven’t done in four months: I unpacked my suitcase.

As many of you know I’ve been behaving a bit like Charlemagne and conquering the men of Great Britain and Europe, not to mention Argentina. But not once, in four months, have I ever unpacked my suitcase.

Sheepishly I admit I’ve lodged in some pretty swanky digs, but my suite often resembled a freshman’s dorm room! Underwear thrown, trousers stepped out from, shirts hanging from lamps (I didn’t have hangers (but then again, I never looked for them (I thought the armoire hid the TV))). Boxes of cigars in cheap plastic bags. And Jesus, my suitcase developed a bizarre behavior: upon delivery by the bellman, I instructed him to place it face down and unzip it.

“Face down?” they’d ask in French or Spanish or Portuguese.

“Oui (or si or *nodding head* in Portuguese), the cleanest clothes are on the bottom. Don’t be shy, go ahead: Zip tip and shake!”

I know inner circle friends are standing in their kitchens aghast, but when you’ve traveled around the world unsure where you’ll find yourself, everything is an embarrassment. Trust me, e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g is an embarrassment.

You see, I pack everything in my suitcase including my character. So when the bellman shakes it out everything, including my wrinkled character comes tumbling out.

My character has taken a real beating these past four months. It’s been torn apart by insanity; it’s been incarcerated for attempted murder; it’s been divorced and exiled and scoffed and bankrupt.

That is until Charlotte, and more specifically, David.

Yesterday, Ahmed (my driver) took me clothes shopping. Note, I didn’t shop in Paris or Milan or Buenos Aires, so why on earth would I shop in Charlotte?

Because I didn’t really want to look nice. But in Charlotte I do. So, what’s different (you know where I’m headed, right)?


I don’t want to be wrinkled today. I want to return to ease and elegance. I w-a-n-t to look my absolute best when I see him. David, in his silly way is letting me be myself.