THE briefcase is battered and beaten. It has been smashed over large men's heads at wrestling events, splashed with beer and spirits during drunken benders in seedy pubs, and been carted over much of Sydney when I've attended functions, screenings and parties straight after work.
The briefcase witnessed bar fights, naked ladies and more stupid horseplay than I ever thought possible. Yet, somehow, it remained sturdy and reliable for 18 years as I carried it to and from work.
The briefcase was presented to me as a farewell gift when I left my old newspaper in 1997. It's been an extension of me ever since. I've carried everything in that briefcase, sometimes till it was bulging at the seam: numerous books and magazines I read on the bus or train commute to work...bulky headphones...junk food...sex toys (don't ask)...groceries...changes of clothing...contraband (again, don't ask)...
But it's finally time to put the old girl down.
The hinges are busted, the woodwork is split in several places (being used as a weapon on a sweaty wrestler's noggin in 1999 didn't help the cause), the latches have started springing open at awkward times and, the final straw, a hole has appeared in the bottom of the briefcase rendering it non-waterproof. And in Sydney, you need your briefcase to be waterproof.Yes, it's going into the rubbish bin tonight. By tomorrow, it'll be buried under a ton of garbage at some local tip.
I may sound a bit melodramatic, but I'm gonna miss the damn thing. It's been a huge part of my Sydney life for nearly two decades.
I bought a new satchel at lunch. The salesman at Myers was very friendly and got me a great deal on it. In passing, I asked if he had any briefcases for sale.
"What? You mean the old square ones? There's hardly any of those made anymore. They haven't been popular for 20 years."
*Sigh*
