You ask me? I say it's out of a knee-jerk reaction from that small boy within every one of us who had the holy cr*p slapped out of him by his mom for rummaging in her purse when he was only 2 or 3 years old. After so many ricochet-off-the-wall slaps, you learn the most important lesson of your 3-years on Earth by that time:
THOSE WEIRD BAGS THAT LADIES CARRY AROUND ARE OFF-LIMITS!
And so ingrained is this lesson and at such a deep psychological traumatic level, that it would take depth therapy and hypnosis to unlearn it.
Anyway, that's my story, and I'm stickin' to it!
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"And all my days are trances, and all my nightly dreams,
Are where thy grey eye glances, and where thy footstep gleams,
In what ethereal dances, by what eternal streams..."
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