Jackie Wells-Fauth
All I needed was my credit card. I mostly use it for gas fillings because it’s convenient. The problem for me is that it’s also really small. And the longer we go through winter, the more coy and unreachable it becomes.
That’s what’s wrong with all plastic money for me. Those slender cards can disappear in your pocket or purse and never be seen again. Especially if they choose to disappear in MY purse or pocket.
You know how some people have a spot…a table or a chair or a counter where they tend to drop everything, and it is constantly a disorganized mess? Well, I don’t do that. I use my purse and my pockets. And when my credit card disappears in there, it’s the proverbial needle in a haystack.
I needed the card the other day and as usual, it had gone into witness protection somewhere and I couldn’t find it. I looked all through the sleeves of my purse, digging past pens, coins and appointment cards, but to no avail.
There was nothing else I could do: I had to look in my pockets. Roy is always fascinated (notice I didn’t say impressed or happy) with the amount of junk I can cram into coat pockets. After an entire winter of collection, the pockets were full enough to horrify him.
“What is all this paper trash?” he asked, running his hand through a bunch of litter I pulled from both pockets.
“Those are receipts. You are always lecturing me about getting receipts when I buy things,” I said virtuously. “So, I keep them.”
“Yes, but eventually, you are supposed to use them to reconcile your checkbook,” he said, smoothing out one crumpled ticket. “This receipt is from last October.”
“There you go, using fancy accounting words on me again,” I grumbled, and about then, I drew out two empty prescription medicine bottles.
“I know you have a good reason for those in your coat pocket,” he said (but he didn’t mean it.)
“Yes, I do. I finished up the prescription when I was out and put the bottles in my pocket…two months in a row. I just never took them out.” I added defensively, “That isn’t as bad as when I take aspirin with me. Then I rattle when I walk.”
“You probably waddle, too with all that stuff in your coat. Look at this, you actually have gloves in there.”
“I don’t use them very much, though,” I admitted. “It’s too hard to get them out—everything else falls out. Same with keys. I have them in my pocket, but it’s easier just to let someone else open doors for me.”
“Why do you have this novel in here?” he asked. “It’s right on top of the hair clip and ponytail holder in this pocket.”
“I sometimes have to wait in various places, and I like to have a book to read,” I said, “and sometimes I need to get my hair put up…when I’m on the road…you never know.”
“So, you want to read while you wait, but why is it necessary to bring War and Peace? Surely there are smaller books around.”
“I found my credit card,” I exclaimed, cutting off his inventory of my coat pockets.
“Great! Where was it?”
“In one of those little slots in my wallet. No wonder I couldn’t find it!”
dropsinthewell 