Yesterday, a bottle of Bessinger’s Spicy Barbecue sauce opened in my favorite Orla Keily purse.
You might be wondering what in the world a bottle of barbecue sauce was doing in my purse to begin with, so let me share with you the whole story.
I had planned to make my mom’s saucy pulled pork yesterday, along with homemade cornbread and mac & cheese. Adam had bought me a five-pack of Bessinger’s sauce when we were in Charleston over New Years because he knew it was my very, very favorite sauce on the entire planet and something we can’t get back home. It’s a spicy vinegar-based sauce, much superior to anything found west of the Mississippi no matter how “down home” the barbecue joint seems to be. Please don’t even get me started on California barbecue restaurants. That’s a whole other post in itself.
Anyway, I ran home to retrieve my prized possession yesterday so I could use it for the pulled pork I was about to make. I stuck the bottle in my purse and headed to Whole Foods to buy some pork butt. And when I paid for said butt, I realized that the bottle had opened and completely doused everything inside with smoky vinegar goodness.
Of course I couldn’t let on that anything was wrong at the cash register, and held my tears and frustration until I came home to my injured boyfriend.
“Jenna? What in the world is wrong?!” Adam asked with concern as he lay propped up in bed.
“The…the…barbecue sauce opened in my puuuuuuuuurse,” I wailed, holding out my doused bag before his eyes.
I explained how I had taken the top off to taste it at my house but then screwed it back on very tightly before placing it in my bag.
“We can get you a new purse! Don’t cry..please don’t cry!” Adam said.
“It’s not about the purse. Now we can’t use the sauce!” I sniffed.
My priorities have always been in check.