***CLICK LETTER TO READ***
Monday, November 23, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Thanks Tyra, for Scaring Me.
Tyra Banks, not the world's foremost expert on, well...anything, scared me today. Not directly you understand, this is all through my very logical friend. We'll call her Cookie.
Cookie had me convinced after a short conversation that according to Tyra Banks, there are as many hermaphrodites as there are red heads in this world. Which is not such a big deal if she didn't proceed to attempt to convince me that because an ex-boyfriend of mine has a questionable scar on his unmentionables that he too is a hermaphrodite.
She made a compelling case...he was weird, he has a weird scar, and Tyra said so. Cookie then stated, "That's it, well you knew he was a bit weird, he was a hermaphrodite-it explains so much." (Which it doesn't...because he's not.) But that is okay because what Cookie states is fact, everyone who knows Cookie is aware of this.
After a minute of my own googling, I read aloud to her my findings, that the scar is quite normal and is not from surgical removal or addition of any body part. To this Cookie replied "Oh, well he was still weird." (Which is very true.)
Thanks Tyra, for making me worry that I may or may not have dated an altered man.
Peace and chicken grease,
E Bandit
Cookie had me convinced after a short conversation that according to Tyra Banks, there are as many hermaphrodites as there are red heads in this world. Which is not such a big deal if she didn't proceed to attempt to convince me that because an ex-boyfriend of mine has a questionable scar on his unmentionables that he too is a hermaphrodite.
She made a compelling case...he was weird, he has a weird scar, and Tyra said so. Cookie then stated, "That's it, well you knew he was a bit weird, he was a hermaphrodite-it explains so much." (Which it doesn't...because he's not.) But that is okay because what Cookie states is fact, everyone who knows Cookie is aware of this.
After a minute of my own googling, I read aloud to her my findings, that the scar is quite normal and is not from surgical removal or addition of any body part. To this Cookie replied "Oh, well he was still weird." (Which is very true.)
Thanks Tyra, for making me worry that I may or may not have dated an altered man.
Peace and chicken grease,
E Bandit
Self Discovery at the Nail Salon
There's something about getting your nails done that gives this extreme sense of confidence. As you stand in front of the acrylic shelf fastened to the wall of the nail salon, your gaze meanders across the endless hues. These hues of nail polish neatly lined up represent more than a fashion statement. They represent a state of mind and for some strange reason you begin to have more confidence in trying weird colors. You think, "Hey, if I'm paying for this I might as well go with an off the wall color".
Sure you start with a pinkish-beige color entitled "Barely Pink", because obviously it won't show when it begins to chip. Then, you get a rush of braveness and put down the dull beige color and pick up a red sparkly color called "Santa's Sleigh"...getting warmer and sexier. You peruse the shelves and pick of an average of fifteen different colors and with each one you analyze it as if it were a greeting card that you are giving to a loved one. You burn through an entire row of red family hues, that turns into burgundies, then to dark purples, and finally you get so gutsy that you end your debate with a black mulberry color that Vogue, Cosmo, and Harper's assured you is all the rage.
As you walk away from the clear shelf of options you feel so confident with your selection. As if you just made a life changing decision. The single color choice has shaped your next week's wardrobe choices and your makeup colors. The harsh truth being that it will begin to chip off in three days...and you will wish you picked "Barely Pink".
(Mental note: Must remember to always pick neutral tones, especially on toes.)
Sure you start with a pinkish-beige color entitled "Barely Pink", because obviously it won't show when it begins to chip. Then, you get a rush of braveness and put down the dull beige color and pick up a red sparkly color called "Santa's Sleigh"...getting warmer and sexier. You peruse the shelves and pick of an average of fifteen different colors and with each one you analyze it as if it were a greeting card that you are giving to a loved one. You burn through an entire row of red family hues, that turns into burgundies, then to dark purples, and finally you get so gutsy that you end your debate with a black mulberry color that Vogue, Cosmo, and Harper's assured you is all the rage.
As you walk away from the clear shelf of options you feel so confident with your selection. As if you just made a life changing decision. The single color choice has shaped your next week's wardrobe choices and your makeup colors. The harsh truth being that it will begin to chip off in three days...and you will wish you picked "Barely Pink".
(Mental note: Must remember to always pick neutral tones, especially on toes.)
Miss Suzy went to heaven & the steamboat went to... Hello, operator...
I am a Catholic born and raised. My family went to church religiously. We went to church every single Sunday (sometimes Saturday). Missing mass was a confession worthy offense. Holy Day of Obligation? Gotta go early to get a good seat. Random Tuesday? Let's go to church!
I vaguely remember being a young innocent little girl about age 5-ish, sitting in the back of the church with my parents and wondering why my siblings got to sit up front with other kids in uniforms. And then, I remember asking if I could also sit up front...a request I would soon regret. For to sit up front would mean I would have to begin attending Sunday School. My Sunday Schooling experience was not a typical experience. It was neither fun nor educational. Before you jump the gun and call me a heathen, let me explain myself. This, so called, Sunday School was every single Sunday for 3 hours directly following a 1 hour mass. I know what you're thinking; 3 hours isn't that long. You're right, it's not, what's 3 hours out of my week? But that's not what I'm complaining about. The kicker is, it was in another language; a language of which I could neither understand, speak, nor write. Problem, you say? Indeed it was. Bigger kicker, you ask? We were graded and failing was a definite possibility. I remember being in mass and singing the prayers but I never knew what I was really singing. I remember our year-end Recite-a-Prayer final exam, if you will. I cringed at the thought of them as I did any other exam. Now, because of my self-diagnosed Early-onset Alzheimer's disease, I cannot recall every detail of my life, this experience included. Everything in my life is a bit fuzzy. I can, however, recall a few key moments. With this said, I will say, without shame (because shit happens) that I failed at least once but I'm not sure when which meant I had to tack on another year of schooling. For 10 years I was stuck on the wrong side of the Great Wall of Language Barrier. And then, I can only assume, the church got smart and realized that not everyone understands and maybe that's why people are failing...So, before the start of my last year - The year I am due to receive the Sacrament of Confirmation - The English class makes its first appearance. *cue the sound of the heavens* Clearly a gift from god. Better late then never right? I was one of the lucky ones who "made the cut" and thus, I was placed into the class. Sadly, it was the only year that I had learned anything. I aced all of the tests AND was named valedictorian of the class. That's right, I'm going to brag about it. I ACED my confirmation class. And this would end my Sunday School experience.
Since then, I have moved (COUNTLESS times) and I am out of arms-reach of my father, who, in every sense of the word, is a religious man. I remember 2 years ago on Christmas eve when I became violently ill and was CLEARLY unable to go to mass on account of the vomit and what not. Instead of saying, "I hope you feel better. God will understand." My dad shakes his head in disapproval and says, "you better go to Church tomorrow!" "I love you too dad." Nonetheless, I have become what some might call, a Cheaster (second definition). I can't help but wonder if God looks down upon those who only go "because they have to." Seeing as how I was brought up to be a religious church-goer and I went to church more than 52 times a year for over 15 years of my life, I should technically feel guilty for not going...right? So how's come I don't? I mean, I do a little but just because I don't go to church every week and I rarely pray doesn't mean I don't believe in god. It doesn't mean I go to Satanic Worship rituals and I have denounced my faith. It just means I have made the conscious decision to not attend mass every Sunday. I look at it this way - when I DO actually go, I rarely listen, I'm antsy, and I just want to leave. What is the point of going if you're not going to listen? If, in fact, god is everywhere, then I must be in church right now. "Our father, who art in heaven..." Ok, my dad would not be happy if he heard me say that...
To sum up a long story going nowhere, I leave god with the following questions:
Have I been wait-listed to Hell State University?
Should I expect to see my acceptance letter in the mail any day now?
Is it too late for me?
I vaguely remember being a young innocent little girl about age 5-ish, sitting in the back of the church with my parents and wondering why my siblings got to sit up front with other kids in uniforms. And then, I remember asking if I could also sit up front...a request I would soon regret. For to sit up front would mean I would have to begin attending Sunday School. My Sunday Schooling experience was not a typical experience. It was neither fun nor educational. Before you jump the gun and call me a heathen, let me explain myself. This, so called, Sunday School was every single Sunday for 3 hours directly following a 1 hour mass. I know what you're thinking; 3 hours isn't that long. You're right, it's not, what's 3 hours out of my week? But that's not what I'm complaining about. The kicker is, it was in another language; a language of which I could neither understand, speak, nor write. Problem, you say? Indeed it was. Bigger kicker, you ask? We were graded and failing was a definite possibility. I remember being in mass and singing the prayers but I never knew what I was really singing. I remember our year-end Recite-a-Prayer final exam, if you will. I cringed at the thought of them as I did any other exam. Now, because of my self-diagnosed Early-onset Alzheimer's disease, I cannot recall every detail of my life, this experience included. Everything in my life is a bit fuzzy. I can, however, recall a few key moments. With this said, I will say, without shame (because shit happens) that I failed at least once but I'm not sure when which meant I had to tack on another year of schooling. For 10 years I was stuck on the wrong side of the Great Wall of Language Barrier. And then, I can only assume, the church got smart and realized that not everyone understands and maybe that's why people are failing...So, before the start of my last year - The year I am due to receive the Sacrament of Confirmation - The English class makes its first appearance. *cue the sound of the heavens* Clearly a gift from god. Better late then never right? I was one of the lucky ones who "made the cut" and thus, I was placed into the class. Sadly, it was the only year that I had learned anything. I aced all of the tests AND was named valedictorian of the class. That's right, I'm going to brag about it. I ACED my confirmation class. And this would end my Sunday School experience.
Since then, I have moved (COUNTLESS times) and I am out of arms-reach of my father, who, in every sense of the word, is a religious man. I remember 2 years ago on Christmas eve when I became violently ill and was CLEARLY unable to go to mass on account of the vomit and what not. Instead of saying, "I hope you feel better. God will understand." My dad shakes his head in disapproval and says, "you better go to Church tomorrow!" "I love you too dad." Nonetheless, I have become what some might call, a Cheaster (second definition). I can't help but wonder if God looks down upon those who only go "because they have to." Seeing as how I was brought up to be a religious church-goer and I went to church more than 52 times a year for over 15 years of my life, I should technically feel guilty for not going...right? So how's come I don't? I mean, I do a little but just because I don't go to church every week and I rarely pray doesn't mean I don't believe in god. It doesn't mean I go to Satanic Worship rituals and I have denounced my faith. It just means I have made the conscious decision to not attend mass every Sunday. I look at it this way - when I DO actually go, I rarely listen, I'm antsy, and I just want to leave. What is the point of going if you're not going to listen? If, in fact, god is everywhere, then I must be in church right now. "Our father, who art in heaven..." Ok, my dad would not be happy if he heard me say that...
To sum up a long story going nowhere, I leave god with the following questions:
Have I been wait-listed to Hell State University?
Should I expect to see my acceptance letter in the mail any day now?
Is it too late for me?
Monday, November 16, 2009
Moving On
In an effort to move on with my life and resume occasionally working out, I had no choice but to purchase a new Zune recently. I don’t feel like I’m cheating because I know that she would’ve wanted this for me…I can’t dwell on the past.
I took this opportunity to clean out the storage; organize, label and delete the duplicates of my ever-growing music collection. Sounds like a good idea until you realize I was swimming through nearly 7000 songs trying to find an escape ladder. But I have only myself to blame for accepting the challenge and I must finish so as not to be viewed as a failure. I guess as an outsider, it doesn’t seem like such a daunting task. I know you Ipodians are thinking, “Itunes would totally do that for you. What a stupid girl with a stupid Zune.” To this, I respond, “Hey! I am NOT stupid and neither is my Zune! Back off!” I’ve used Itunes on many occasions, or rather, attempted to use it and have found it to be rather counterintuitive and NON-user-friendly. You might now be thinking, “she’s totally stupid if she can’t use Itunes.” Well, I consider myself to be a rather tech-savvy person. I can usually figure out how to use a program if I fiddle with it enough but Itunes is not one of those programs. It’s ridiculously retarded and everything you click forces a prompt to ask you to either sign-in or purchase something, but I digress.
I Saw The Sign - Ace Of Base
One More Try - Timmy T
(I Cant Help) Falling In Love With You - UB40
Here Comes The Hotstepper - Ini Kamoze
It Must Have Been Love - Roxette
If it didn’t take so damn long, I would’ve taken care of this whole music organization thing a long time ago but let me be reminded of the time when I decided to organize the collection when it was about 1500 songs lighter. I spent hours and hours but I didn’t seem to even make a dent. I think I made it to the “L”s before I gave up on account of my eyes burning and possibly bleeding and the fact that I no longer had the desire to listen to music for at least a week. This time was going to be different, I told myself I would finish if it killed me.
After hours of “The Office” and the determination to complete the task by nights end, I had SUCCESSFULLY renamed over approximately 2000 songs and whittled my collection down to 6000 songs. I feel accomplished. I not only completed what seemed like an impossible mission, but I stumbled upon countless oldies (but goodies) hidden in a collection containing songs that I have never and probably will never listen to but yet, I will probably never delete them because I might one day want to discover a new old song. I also learned that I must’ve been both a country enthusiast & a hip-hop devotee at one point in my life. If I deleted all of the Rascal Flatts, Garth Brooks, Tim McGraw, Dierks Bentley, Brad Paisley, & on the flip-side, Notorious, Bone Thugs, ODB, Dr. Dre, & Jay Z, I will have successfully deleted a good 35% of my collection. Something I’ve also learned about myself during this process is that I have an, and I’m trying to be as humble as I can about it, ASTONISHING ability to recall song artists when I hear a song. I mean it, I'm amazing. As for the song titles, I have Google, NAY, the good people of America who have chosen to take time out of their busy schedules and devote it to typing entire lyrics and posting them on the internet. Thank you America.
Here are five songs that will have you saying, “I totally remember that song & I loved it!”
Here are five songs that will have you saying, “I totally remember that song & I loved it!”
I Saw The Sign - Ace Of Base
One More Try - Timmy T
(I Cant Help) Falling In Love With You - UB40
Here Comes The Hotstepper - Ini Kamoze
It Must Have Been Love - Roxette
On the flip side, my personal list of, “How did this get on here, I hate this song.”
- Johnny Cash – Burning Ring of Fire
- I’m not going to buy into his sudden popularity among the “younger folk.” I don’t like him. Shut it off.
- Hinder – Lips of an Angel
- Ahhhh! YACK! I will and have walked out of a bar because of this song.
- Beyonce – Crazy in Love
- No thanks, I’ll pass.
- Green Day – Boulevard of Broken Dreams
- Takes me back to a less happier time. DELETE!
- Uncle Kracker - Smile
- The newest addition; wasn't in my collection but bad enough to make the list. The person that “discovered” he had a singing voice should be shot.
I could probably go on and list many many more songs but I will save the other lists for another day.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Checking In With Exes and Oh's
Ebandit: Hey, so how's everything? Heard you moved out of state...any reason?
Drummer Man Ex: Yeah, moved down for this girl I was dating, but it didn't work out.
Ebandit: Oh, sorry to hear. How long did you date before you moved?
Drummer: Haha, about a month.
Ebandit: Wow, slow down there. How did you meet her? I hope you didn't go on that website you were on before we met, called Veggie Date.
Drummer: Uhhh, no. Not Veggie Date. It was actually...
Ebandit: Uh oh...let's hear it.
Drummer: Spiritual Singles.com. I didn't learn my lesson I guess.
Ebandit: Amazing.
The Moral of The Story Folks: Breakups happen for a reason...survival of the fittest if you will.
Drummer Man Ex: Yeah, moved down for this girl I was dating, but it didn't work out.
Ebandit: Oh, sorry to hear. How long did you date before you moved?
Drummer: Haha, about a month.
Ebandit: Wow, slow down there. How did you meet her? I hope you didn't go on that website you were on before we met, called Veggie Date.
Drummer: Uhhh, no. Not Veggie Date. It was actually...
Ebandit: Uh oh...let's hear it.
Drummer: Spiritual Singles.com. I didn't learn my lesson I guess.
Ebandit: Amazing.
The Moral of The Story Folks: Breakups happen for a reason...survival of the fittest if you will.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Security Checkpoint Closed, Come Back L8TR
Eye opening facts that I learned from my fall vacation.
1.) Security checkpoints in small-town airports open at 9 a.m., not one minute before. "Checkpoint opens at 9 a.m. - Come Back L8TR"
2.) The airplane seat in front of you can also be used as a napkin. Yes, this was proven to me by the lovely 55 year old woman sitting next to me who used the seatback in front of her as a peanut crumb/salt napkin. She would reach her hand into her ziploc bag of peanuts, throw the fistful of snacks into her mouth then proceed to wipe the palms of her hands and finger tips, from the top down, on the seat in front of her. The very gross part...she kept returning her airplane seat smudged hand back into her bag of peanuts for more salty goodness...and the cycle continued.
3.) Do not take refuge at TGI Fridays in Dallas airport if you want some quiet time to read your new Jen Lancaster book in between flights. The fraternity boys who are on a boys trip to see sporting events (woo hoo, go team!) will definitely interrupt your reading by screaming at one of the nineteen tv's showing sports.
4.) Wealthy WASPS love tall, thin, blondes. And will tell you openly and honestly how nice it is to see a thin person in the sea of obese Americans traveling.
5.) Married couples with children never seem to have the foresight to book two seats TOGETHER on any given flight and will ask you to move from the comfy aisle seat to a cramped window seat. You will feel guilty, and you will give up your coveted seat.
1.) Security checkpoints in small-town airports open at 9 a.m., not one minute before. "Checkpoint opens at 9 a.m. - Come Back L8TR"
2.) The airplane seat in front of you can also be used as a napkin. Yes, this was proven to me by the lovely 55 year old woman sitting next to me who used the seatback in front of her as a peanut crumb/salt napkin. She would reach her hand into her ziploc bag of peanuts, throw the fistful of snacks into her mouth then proceed to wipe the palms of her hands and finger tips, from the top down, on the seat in front of her. The very gross part...she kept returning her airplane seat smudged hand back into her bag of peanuts for more salty goodness...and the cycle continued.
3.) Do not take refuge at TGI Fridays in Dallas airport if you want some quiet time to read your new Jen Lancaster book in between flights. The fraternity boys who are on a boys trip to see sporting events (woo hoo, go team!) will definitely interrupt your reading by screaming at one of the nineteen tv's showing sports.
4.) Wealthy WASPS love tall, thin, blondes. And will tell you openly and honestly how nice it is to see a thin person in the sea of obese Americans traveling.
5.) Married couples with children never seem to have the foresight to book two seats TOGETHER on any given flight and will ask you to move from the comfy aisle seat to a cramped window seat. You will feel guilty, and you will give up your coveted seat.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Obesity in America
Ok so, I wanted to write this entry to point out the rising obesity epidemic in America…among purses. Everywhere I look, the purses are getting larger and larger. I’m afraid to see how obese purses will be when our children and our children’s children grow up. I have managed to categorize purse sizes into five groups; perhaps this research will help someone, somewhere, find a cure for this overlooked issue. And the five groups are as follows:
The Clutch – The Anorexic one of the group.
So small, you almost forget you’re carrying it. Just carries the essentials.
• Cash Money
• Credit cards
• ID
• Chapstick
• A few sticks of gum
• House & car keys
The Mini – The one who can eat everything but never gains a pound.
Also carries the essentials along with some extras, but it also hangs on your shoulder.
• Wallet
• Lip gloss
• Perfume
• Tic-tacs
• Keys
• Modest-sized cell phone
The Average – Not too thin, Not too fat.
Carries things you need and things you could do without.
• Full wallet with checkbook insert
• A pen
• Crackberry phone
• Compact, lipstick, eyeliner
• Tampons
• Pack of gum
• Several pieces of candy
• Band-aids
• Keys
The Pear – Hip measurement is greater than the bust. (Also, she eats a little more than she should).
You don’t know how to tell her that she’s gained a little weight. You have to switch arms because she forms a dent in your shoulder. You’ve clearly lost track of the contents. You often find yourself saying, “I think I have that.”
• A clutch purse doubling as a wallet
• Checkbook
• Tampons
• Make-up
• Portable Tissues
• Tape measure
• Safety pins
• An umbrella
• Crayons
• Nail clippers & file
• More keys than necessary
• Granola bar
• A Notebook
• The novel, “The Notebook”
• Ipod Nano
• Sunglasses
• Iphone
• Pocket knife
The Chub – Complains about her weight but still super-sizes.
The Mary Poppins of bags. Could possibly fit a kitchen sink if a situation deemed necessary. Larger than a carry-on bag. More pockets than a pair of cargo pants. On the plus side, you could probably survive on the contents of the bag in the event that you’re stuck in your car for 3-5 days.
• Iphone
• Keys (including your spares & your neighbors spares)
• Wallet
• Checkbook
• Coin purse
• Photographs
• Digital Camera
• Ipod Video
• A Planner
• Pretzels, granola bar, bottle of water, packs of gum, bag of chips
• Pens, pencils, crayons
• A Novel or two with a booklight
• Toothbrush, toothpaste, floss
• Makeup bag
• Sunglasses & reading glasses
• TomTom
• Lotion & Hand sanitizer
• Calculator
• Umbrella
• Brush, comb & hairspray
• A cocktail of pills
• Emergency sew kit
• First Aid kit
• Deck of cards
• Packets of Equal
• A couple of magazines
• Pair of socks, gloves & hat
• Extra Cardigan
• A Mini purse
• And, last but not least, your dog
So tell us, what kind of purse do you have? Do you think your purse needs to go on a diet? Do you really think you need to carry around that package of Mac n’ Cheese? Or the empty flask from god knows when? Do you think you should carry a tire iron with you at all times? I know there’s a pocket equipped with safety buckles & baby Lily can fit in there but have you ever heard of a Baby Bjorn? 2 cans of baked beans. Really? If you have to walk through a door sideways because there aint no way you’re both going to fit through, you need two hands to carry it, and it takes you longer than 5 seconds to retrieve your wallet, chances are, your bag needs downsizing.
The Clutch – The Anorexic one of the group.
So small, you almost forget you’re carrying it. Just carries the essentials.
• Cash Money• Credit cards
• ID
• Chapstick
• A few sticks of gum
• House & car keys
The Mini – The one who can eat everything but never gains a pound.
Also carries the essentials along with some extras, but it also hangs on your shoulder.
• Wallet
• Lip gloss
• Perfume
• Tic-tacs
• Keys
• Modest-sized cell phone
The Average – Not too thin, Not too fat.
Carries things you need and things you could do without.
• Full wallet with checkbook insert
• A pen
• Crackberry phone
• Compact, lipstick, eyeliner
• Tampons
• Pack of gum
• Several pieces of candy
• Band-aids
• Keys
The Pear – Hip measurement is greater than the bust. (Also, she eats a little more than she should).
You don’t know how to tell her that she’s gained a little weight. You have to switch arms because she forms a dent in your shoulder. You’ve clearly lost track of the contents. You often find yourself saying, “I think I have that.”
• A clutch purse doubling as a wallet
• Checkbook
• Tampons
• Make-up
• Portable Tissues
• Tape measure
• Safety pins
• An umbrella
• Crayons
• Nail clippers & file
• More keys than necessary
• Granola bar
• A Notebook
• The novel, “The Notebook”
• Ipod Nano
• Sunglasses
• Iphone
• Pocket knife
The Chub – Complains about her weight but still super-sizes.
The Mary Poppins of bags. Could possibly fit a kitchen sink if a situation deemed necessary. Larger than a carry-on bag. More pockets than a pair of cargo pants. On the plus side, you could probably survive on the contents of the bag in the event that you’re stuck in your car for 3-5 days.
• Iphone
• Keys (including your spares & your neighbors spares)
• Wallet
• Checkbook
• Coin purse
• Photographs
• Digital Camera
• Ipod Video
• A Planner
• Pretzels, granola bar, bottle of water, packs of gum, bag of chips
• Pens, pencils, crayons
• A Novel or two with a booklight
• Toothbrush, toothpaste, floss
• Makeup bag
• Sunglasses & reading glasses
• TomTom
• Lotion & Hand sanitizer
• Calculator
• Umbrella
• Brush, comb & hairspray
• A cocktail of pills
• Emergency sew kit
• First Aid kit
• Deck of cards
• Packets of Equal
• A couple of magazines
• Pair of socks, gloves & hat
• Extra Cardigan
• A Mini purse
• And, last but not least, your dog
So tell us, what kind of purse do you have? Do you think your purse needs to go on a diet? Do you really think you need to carry around that package of Mac n’ Cheese? Or the empty flask from god knows when? Do you think you should carry a tire iron with you at all times? I know there’s a pocket equipped with safety buckles & baby Lily can fit in there but have you ever heard of a Baby Bjorn? 2 cans of baked beans. Really? If you have to walk through a door sideways because there aint no way you’re both going to fit through, you need two hands to carry it, and it takes you longer than 5 seconds to retrieve your wallet, chances are, your bag needs downsizing.
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