Sampling of Crazy Bag Script

As published in the Denver Post:

Crazy Bag

Yeah. (Indicating pile)

So. I have a little baggage.

Do you think it’s too much?

Excessive?

Do I have a baggage problem?

I considered it a problem, the moment it appeared in my bed.

That’s right. Woke up one morning, spooning a piece of my own baggage.

(To ceiling) Hello, God? Last night? Before I went to sleep? I am pretty sure I specified hunk NOT trunk.

(Back to audience) Not the first time we’ve had a communication problem.

After I stopped fondling the trunk, I stepped out of bed. Into a carry-on. Went to brush my teeth? Ended up face down in a hat box!

They were everywhere.

Garment bags, wardrobes, trunks, vanity cases. On my dining room table…washing machine…TV… in the refrigerator.

This wasn’t your ordinary, run of the mill baggage, folks.

I reached for the American Tourister.

It growled at me.

Ok, I know they called it a trip. I just never thought the flashbacks would actually involve luggage.

I guess it’s possible I smoked a little baggage at some point. Those were crazy times.

But, when it was still there the next day? And the next. And the next?

And when it started breeding??

I never actually saw the Samsonite give birth. But, there were more little carry-ons every day.

Soon I had more baggage than I could handle. I had more baggage than JFK International could handle.

(Beat)

Please. Please don’t. Please don’t look at me like I’m crazy. I’m not crazy.

I prefer the term, well-traveled.

The word baggage?

Has two meanings. Luggage. Or. Impediment.

How can one word mean both: You’re goin’ places. And. Honey. You aint going anywhere?

When it isn’t going anywhere either.

It follows me everywhere.

I am losing my mind!!!

(Pause)

Actually, I already lost my mind.

Or parts of it, anyway.

The Day the Bags Fell. Out of here. (indicates head)

The overhead compartment? Otherwise known as the Hippocampus.

(Look back at bags) Apparently, I had a hungry, hungry hippocampus.