Of Men and Wallets

There comes a time in every man’s life when he has to let go of cherished items.  Such was the case recently with my beloved wallet of some 10+ years.  Yes, this wallet has been with me through thick and thin (literally).  Through times of famine and prosperity.  Through it all, this baby has been there, providing me with spending money, credit cards, a repository for various receipts, business cards, phone numbers on little slips of paper, and the such.

Recently, however, in addition to the noticeably shabby appearance of the old girl, I’ve been noticing a not-necessarily-pleasant aroma when I whip this baby from my back pocket.  No, I’m not talking about the nice aroma of a well-used and aged smoking pipe.  Nor am I referencing that satisfying “patina” of old leather, such as encountered in any old British car.  No, what we have here is that unloved (okay, let’s call it nauseous) scent of locker room/dirty socks/well used tennis shoe which wafts through the air. 

Apparently, 10 years of riding along on my ass through hundreds of hot and sweaty tasks had finally taken its toll.  It was when I began noticing vultures circling overhead anytime I unholstered this baby outside, that I realized the end was near.

Thus began my search for a suitable replacement… not easy in these days of multiple-use accounterments to men’s fashions.  I found units with storage space for spare keys, zipper pockets, little plastic albums for your pets and kids photos, all in nice little presentation boxes.

Finally, in an obscure discount store, I stumbled onto my new baby.  Almost a spitting image of the about-to-be-buried outgoing model (no, I wouldn’t wish THAT smell on any trash pickup crew!).  No extra geegaws, just the basics, thank you mam.. a place for a few bucks, slot for my driver license, and a few pockets for those all-important credit cards.

Now life can go on… good for another 10 years!


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