Can you find humor in your everyday possessions?  Last week I shared my Stand-Up comedy routine about my iPhone.  This week, it’s my purse.  This stand up routine was performed in January at Humor Mill Toastmasters‘ Annual Stand Up Comedy Night.
Below are the video (4:58) and a rough transcript.  I wrote it out and then practiced from keywords, so it’s not word-for-word, and in-fact there are a few ad-lib lines, like when I compare shopping for a purse to dating  “It’s like finding the right man.  Only more fun!”  I hadn’t thought of saying “only more fun!” until that very moment, and clearly that was the funny line.  This just goes to show the value in recording your speeches.  Sometimes you say things that are better than what you planned!  By recording them (and the audience reaction), you can see what works, and what doesn’t.
By the way, my purse and I have gone our separate ways.  It was “until death do us part.”  I guess you could call it pursicide.  I killed her by throwing her in the trash.  I now have a more attractive “trophy wife” kind of purse.
My Purse:  Till Death Do Us Part

Imagine a typical Saturday at the mall.  You’re a guy and you’re shopping with your wife or girlfriend.  And she asks you to hold her purse.

How do you react?

You have a couple of options.  X can you come up and help me demonstrate?  I promise you won’t have to hold my purse for long.

The first option is to hold the purse with confidence, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.  Here you go.

Very good.  Now, there’s only one problem with this option.  You look really comfortable, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.  Is that really what you want people to think?

No. So, your other option is to hold it out away from your body, touching it only with your finger tips and a slightly fearful, disgusted look.  Like you’re holding a dirty diaper.  Like it might leak on you.  That’s right.  I’ll take it back now. Thank you, X.  You can sit down.

You must have strong fingers, X.  My purse is really big and heavy.  My purse is so big it could have its own zip code.

My purse is so big that it should be a registered weapon.  Really, I almost made X die of embarrassment.

Have you ever noticed that as women get older, their purses get bigger?

I’m 50 now, imagine when I’m 100—just to hold my purse, I’ll need two husbands.

When I was a teenager I didn’t have a purse, I had a wallet.  And my mother had this ridiculously large purse.  I vowed I would never turn into my mother.

Well, I have, I’m a true “bag lady.”

Although I can’t always find what I’m looking for, my purse can hold just about anything:   keyboard for my iPad, grooming accessories . . . small children.

No really!  Here’s a picture of one of my granddaughters at 3 months.  In .  .  . my purse.

She seemed quite content . . . I’ll have to take her purse shopping someday.

Because my own daughter, who only carries a wallet, won’t go purse shopping with me.  She won’t even walk into Kohl’s with me, for fear that I might veer off toward the purse department.

I can’t help it that it takes me hours to find just the right purse.  It’s like finding the right man.  If more women spent as much time looking for the right man as they do the right purse, we’d have fewer divorces.

I’m a serial monogamist when it comes to purses.  I’m not one of those women who have a purse for every outfit. Out of curiosity—let’s see a show of hands, ladies, if you have more than one purse . . . you know what you are?  You’re a . . . purse polygamist. I’m a one-purse woman.  Oh, sure, I have a cheesy little clutch bag for super fancy events—but, I feel so guilty when I go out with the little tart.  My faithful purse may be a little worn—the patent leather is cracking on the straps and she’s missing a few rivets–some might even call her an “old bag.”

But, It’s till death-do-us-part.  Or, until Kohl’s has a really good sale.

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