Okay. I'll admit it. I was a purse stalker today. I didn't mean to. It just sort of happened. There I was, innocently trotting out of Neiman Marcus and...ahh! I saw it:

The Marc Jacobs Scarlet Bag.

I love this bag. I want this bag. (Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.) It's the most utterly fabulous bag in the...hey, wait a sec. I catch myself doing a double take. Is it a fake?

No. It can't be.

I quickly jog after the bouncy blonde girl for a closer look. Wow. It's such a gorgeous bag! I carefully inspect the electric blue leather. The cute little tassels dangling off the strap. Hmm...come to think of it, I really thought those tassels were a tad different. Bigger. More bell-shaped.

Eee! Maybe it is a knock-off?!

My heart races. If it is, maybe I could actually afford a Scarlet Bag! (Or faux Scarlet Bag, but whatever.) This is fantastic. This is...

Ooh. Wait! She's turning left onto Powell Street. I've gotta pick up the pace. I can't lose her. I simply have to ask where she got her bag!

And right as I'm turning down Powell...oof. I run smack into the Scarlet Bag. The girl must have stopped to dig out her cell phone, which is ringing loudly.

"Ss-sorry," I stutter awkwardly.

"No prob," the girl says, already clicking on her cell.

My eyes drift over to her bag again. (Arghh! I just can't tell. Is it real or not?) Should...should I ask?

No. No. That's so rude. And well...she's on her cell now. I couldn't. Could I?

Oh, what the hell? I'll never see her again. Besides, this could be my only chance!

I take a deep breath and tap the girl on the shoulder.

She pulls her cell away from her ear and raises an eyebrow. "Yes?"

My heart thumps wildly. (I can't believe I'm doing this!)

"I...I'm sorry. Is that real?" I spout, my cheeks on fire.

The girl smiles proudly and nods.

Drats!

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