Big Duffle

A few months ago I did that thing I try to do twice a year where I pick a closet or a dresser and pretend I’m moving across the country and need to ruthlessly clean it out. And then once it’s totally clean it’s like, “SIKE. You’re not even moving!” But I think the deception is worth it because damn, just look at that closet.

I picked my clothes closet, and after filling up multiple bags of stuff to sell and donate, I’d sorted out a pile of things I really never wear but know I might probably want someday. I was meeting my family for a little three-day vacation the following weekend, so I made a deal with my parents: if they’d take this one duffle bag of “sentimental clothes” back home to Michigan, I’d get rid of two bins of my ye olde crap from their basement. Great.

So a week later, my boyfriend Ryan and I got up for our flight at 5:15 A.M. I put the duffle next to my suitcase in the hall and told him we should probably leave a little early since I needed to check a bag. He had his things in a comically small tote and suggested putting his bag into one of mine so that we wouldn’t need to check. I told him that was a great idea. He unzipped the duffle bag on my bed and started shifting things around.

“What’s in this big box?” he asked, lifting up a bridesmaid dress to try to jam his bag down the side.

“They’re these $500 boots I got for writing a sponsored article like four years ago,” I told him. “But they’re way too small so I never wear them.”

“Oh ok; could we take them out of the box?” he asked.

“Eh, I’d really rather keep them in the box,” I said.

“If we wrapped them up in these jackets they’d be super cushioned and my bag would fit.”

“I mean, you know how much I hate checking a bag…” I said, “but, yeah, I’d really prefer to keep them with the box.”

“Ok sure.” he said, and we went to the airport, checked the duffle bag, and spent the five-hour flight trying to finish the Delta crossword puzzle despite its absurdly vague clues.

When we landed and headed toward baggage claim, Ryan paused for a moment and said, “Jess, we gotta talk about packing. Maybe I could help you somehow?”
And I’ve always vocally envied people that prance carefree through the airport with a casual little bag — my suitcase and backpack were legitimately a LOT for a three-day weekend. “Yeah,” I said, “I really thought I’d pack lighter but with the thunderstorms and 95-degree days and air-conditioning I was just so confused about what to bring.”

He thought for another moment; I could tell he was earnestly trying to definitely not mansplain ‘packing’ to me.

“Well, if you want, maybe I could pack with you next time and we could see if it’s possible to pare things down a bit?”

“That could be fun,” I said. “And I mean, at least we won’t have to check on the way back.”

He looked up, confused. “We won’t?”

“No,” I said, “’cause of the deal with my parents.”

When his face didn’t melt into recognition, I realized that he’d been out of town when I cleaned my closet. I’d never mentioned any of the duffle/bin deal to him.

And suddenly, I could look back at a horrifying parallel reality. For the previous six hours he’d been living in a world where his girlfriend, in preparation for a three-day domestic family vacation, had brought her work backpack, a rolling suitcase, and a big duffle bag stuffed with half a dozen jackets and sweaters — for summertime in Atlanta, mind you — as well as multiple extremely formal dresses and a pair of shoes that were not only so uncomfortable that she hadn’t worn them in four years, but that she insisted on keeping in their massive shoe box.

I couldn’t even start to explain before the fits of laughter hit me. I was leaning over my suitcase on the crowded Plane Train, laughing so hard that tears were just falling out of my face at the idea of it. That kind of really, really hard laughing where other people around you start laughing at how hard you’re laughing. He stood and watched me, shaking his head and waiting for an explanation, saying, “You know, I don’t even know what’s so funny but it CANNOT be that funny…”

But I really thought it was!