The big purse

I am not a big purse person. Some have even commented on my lack of understanding of those who carry a big purse. This may be true, but there is one instance in which I dig out my one and only big purse from the back of the closet. There is one time, usually every 2-3 months or so, when being frugal trumps being fashionable: a trip to the movies.


I bought this purse backpack solely for the purpose of smuggling contraband food and beverages into movie theaters. My all-time greatest feat was to carry in an entire angel food cake, along with assorted beverages. Over this holiday weekend, Matt and I went to see The Hangover, and the purse made its appearance once again, stuffed to the brim with a bag of microwave popcorn, 2 cans of pop, some cookies and a jumbo bag of Swedish Fish. This was hardly my record, but it still took some creative maneuvering.

Even though I'm nearly 30 and never get stopped by movie theater personnel anymore (since most of them are either half my age or three times it), I still get a rush from my movie theater smuggles. I spend most of the car ride to the theater arranging and rearranging the items in the bag so that it doesn't bulge strangely or expose any food. I bring a sweater along with me "because theaters are so cold," and strategically drape it over any food or drink that may poke out the top. My heart jumps a little when I walk by the "No outside food or beverage" sign, and I feel a sense of smug satisfaction when I look at the prices for movie theater food. I wait to pull out my popcorn or open my can of pop until the lights are low and the previews are loud, just in case a staff member is lurking. And when the movie is finally over, I pick up the big purse from the sticky floor and leave an empty microwave popcorn bag in the cup holder: a calling card, if you will, to let the theater know that the big purse and I have won this round.