But is it lobster-proof?

The new MoMa Store catalog arrived and this Wooden Clutch from the MoMA Store caught my eye immediately. Made from curved hickory, it has a unique sculptural quality that makes me want to rush out and touch it, stroke it and make it it MINE. Unfortunately, it's currently on backorder, even worse it would cost $295 plus tax, and even with my member discount that's still more than I want to part with.
But the real question is: Can I go out dinner with it and not do it some terrible damage?
Last night we went to the south shore of Long Island to eat the lobster I was denied some weeks ago. It was a beautiful evening; the storms that had threatened never materialized so we were able to sit on the water and watch the sun set. This is a hands-on place - no bibs or water dishes - you just grab the seafood and tear it apart. We started with BYO wine, some shrimp and seaweed salad and then moved on to the main event - the much anticipated lobsters. I reached for mine, a 1 lb female, cracked the shell with both hands and showered myself in a delicious red spray of coral or lobster roe.
This was upsetting on two fronts. First, the coral is my favorite part and I didn't want to waste any and second, this stuff stains anything it touches bright orange. The sun was setting, so I figured it wouldn't be too noticeable, and I'd only shot myself, not my fellow diners, so I wiped up what I could, licked my fingers and continued eating.
After dinner we walked the boardwalk at Long Beach and went back to the Music Guy and Opera Diva's place for coffee and dessert. Under their kitchen lights the full glory of the damage I had wrought was revealed: shirt, shorts, skin - everything was orange tinged. Front and back. Don't ask how that was possible. But it was only when we got home that I saw the roe had made its way to my beloved lilac linen Birkin-style bag. Front, back, sides and even underneath, it was everywhere. A huge mess that proved beyond the capabilities of even Tide-To-Go. I've scrubbed it as well as I can and it may yet survive, but I think I will have to cover it in saran-wrap and don a rain slicker and a sou'wester myself before I tackle another lobster dinner.

Lobster Day: what went down

Here was the plan:
1) Drive 45 minutes on the Long Island Expressway (east) to get The Guy's neck checked by Insurance Doctor. This was necessary because he'd had 12 sessions of physio after the accident. The car insurance medical assessor assigns a doctor that is impossible to reach unless you have your own car and have the means to put gas in the tank. The letter inviting The Guy to the appointment made it clear that YOU MUST VISIT AT THE APPOINTED TIME. NO EXCEPTIONS. FAILURE TO DO SO MAY RESULT IN YOUR CLAIM BEING DENIED!
2) Continue on to the Lobster Roll, eat lunch
3) Call at Tanger Outlet and buy rug for master bedroom
And here's what actually happened:
We arrived at the doctor's office 15 minutes early. The room was filled with people completing their info sheets. Sample questions: What is your date of birth? How old are you? Are you a minor? I'm not even kidding. An hour later we were still waiting and so was everyone else. It was hot. There was no water. People started getting restless. Questions were asked. Voices were raised. Accusations were leveled. Things got tense. Groups formed; some people were angry, others defensive. While interesting from a sociological standpoint it was not a good situation.
Someone came out from the back office, left and returned bearing boxes of donuts, coffee, juice and water. The crowd was placated. People were seen. Two hours after The Guy's initial appointment he was called in. Four minutes later he was out with a recommendation to continue the physio for another twelve sessions. That means he has to go through this again in six weeks. Not necessarily at this doctor's office. I will not be accompanying him.


The Guy had to make a business call. I shopped for the rug while he worked. I scored the softest cream rug at Pottery Barn, a cardinal red throw, a bathmat, huge candlesticks, paper napkins. A bunch of stuff, in fact. The Guy finished his call just as I was checking out. It was 3:30. We were STARVING.
Twenty minutes later, a shared plate of puffers and a glass of chardonnay before us and lobster rolls ordered, The Guy announced we'd have to hurry as he had to go out to dinner at the other end of Long Island. At a lobster restaurant.......
So dear readers, I got indigestion. The Guy got puffers, lobster roll and a 1 1/2 lb lobster in the space of three hours. He didn't seem to suffer at all.
I feel a little cheated.