I Bought A Backpack On Wheels And I’m Not Ashamed To Bring It Everywhere With Me

Is transporting your massive collection of important literature breaking your back? Do your primal instincts tell you that the wheel is the universe’s most revolutionary invention? Have you always dreamt of being a pilot? Had an obsession with airports? Is it in your opinion that one hand is better than two?

Walking to class, I had the above onslaught of epiphanies as I found myself utterly overwhelmed by my two ineffectually dormant arms.

So, in an effort to occupy my hands, I quickly ran out and purchased a backpack on wheels.

Now I roll in style, my right hand slightly elevated, purposefully bouncing in stride beside my butt (which is also bouncing), grasping the plastic retractable handle, and my other pumping with confidence at my side.

When my left (free) hand isn’t pumping with confidence, it can be found taking care of those rogue boogers I meant to excavate earlier that morning.

It might even be giving some piggish men the finger as they hoot and holler provocative statements in my general direction, clearly impressed by my new-found lopsided strut. I was once told that rapper Marshall Manner (M&M) and I share a similar swag.

My caddy-of-knowledge makes a delightful echoing click as I walk down halls and sidewalks, alerting non-wheelers of my imminent approach. This way I don’t have to use phrases such as “excuse me” or “on your left” which have been a waste of breath since forever. Plus I have increased my aerodynamics by swinging one less arm, effectively cutting commute time in half. That means more time in Starbucks and less time dodging average students on the sidewalks.

But what happens when the weather takes a turn for the worse? My single-inch-in-diameter wheels may end up fairing the snow similarly to a Smart Car in the Antarctic.

So I stormed for ideas (ha-ha, get it).

And, luckily with some incessant Binging I found a simply steezy answer: Two fully compatible twelve inch twin tip skis, so the harsh winter months don’t take a toll on my trolling arm, in forward or reverse. Other accessories included pocket-protector shaped wax and ramps for killer tricks.

My most important test was to see how many September issues of Vogue I could fit inside, which turned out to be the all of 1994 to present. Subsequently, I Instagrammed and hashtagged #Vogue and tagged @AnnaWintour who instantly promised me the inside cover in the 2014 September issue for my daring sartorial move.

She said that though it was promised to Karl Lagerfeld, he would approve of her bold statement and send me the first of his new line of Chanel backpacks-sur-wheels in “Cadaver Skin”, which is, of course, the new black.

In the words of Cher Horowitz from Clueless, the 1995 cinematic rendition of Jane Austin’s Emma, “It’s a personal choice every woman has got to make for herself.”