The World's Heaviest Briefcase

I was proud of my new briefcase. A mahogany leather beauty with brass clasps that sprang open once you dialed the discrete lock’s combination.

And it was solid. Solid as a rock.

It was a graduation gift from Aunt Karin and Uncle Louie, my only relatives to have finished college too.

I carried it with me on the train ride from Ohio to New York because it held my most precious cargo – my resumes.

I couldn’t wait to pop it open during a job interview and hand the recruiter a resume. The case would signal that I had arrived, ready to be a Manhattan yuppie.

But it was heavy. So heavy, I had to switch arms every five minutes whenever I held it.

And after carrying it for blocks and blocks in my only (wool) suit in late summer, I was drenched in sweat before any of my meetings.

It was so heavy it toppled off of my lap in one interview, spilling all of my resumes and writing samples on the floor. I still got the job, but I should have seen it as an omen of how that first job would turn out for me.

I still have my briefcase 30 years later. How can you get rid of your first and only companion in the City? He was like my "Wilson."

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