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DAY IN, DAY OUT, SHE'S BEEN THERE FOR ME, PROVIDING ME A WARM COMFORT ZONE FOR MY LEFT BUTTOCK, ALONG WITH CREDIT, CASH, AN IDENTITY AND EVEN AIR MILES.
NOT TO MENTION SHE'S MADE A SHROUD OF TURIN-LIKE IMPRESSION ON MY BACKSIDE AND BURNED A HOLE IN MY DENIM BECAUSE OF HER CURVES AND FAMILIARITY.
"She" is my wallet. And today, after a lengthy and loving relationship, I cast her aside for someone new.
She's been loyal and faithful, a constant companion.
I've taken her out of my back pocket, rifled through her, caressed her, held her, taken a lot of things out of her, and then just stuffed her back inside my pocket.
She's never complained once.
But she has worn herself out, or at least I've worn her out. She's getting a little frayed around the edges. Inside, she's a little tattered and torn, no doubt as a result of me trying to put too much in her.
So when my daughter asked me what I wanted for Christmas, a new butt bumpkin was one of my answers. And she came through.
Here it is on Feb. 29, a unique day, when I decided to say goodbye to Wilma my Wallet.
We've spent most of the day just going over old times and exploring the recesses of our minds, seeking out those old memories.
I've now emptied her of all her contents so she feels rather alone and naked, but I've assured her she's beautiful in her nakedness.
No more credit cards, frayed health insurance cards and the like, my driver's licence with the goofy photo.
Her leather skin has faded but is still that same old beautiful brown, Made in Canada, that was stuck to my cheek all these years.
I've lightened her load and I've told her my life will never be the same.
But it's time for her to go, because my daughter has found me someone new.
She's very pretty, shiny, and that same brown that I like...and I explored her this morning on my bed to learn more about her. She's made in India, not Canada, for one thing. Is anything made in Canada any more?
Not to complain, mind you. But there are other things I've noticed.
She has way more slots for credit cards. And I try to limit my credit cards, so I inserted other cards in their place. I hope she's OK with that.
You might also note that this new wallet, whose name is Winona, came with a Diner's Club card and a Gold Mastercard, although apparently, as below, they mistook me for someone else.
So my pseudonyms are now Frank Helgen Felder and Bruno Olivier. No problemo. Those credit card numbers seem a little suspicious, but I'm sure I can get by with three identities rather than just one.
All I'll have to do is show the fancy inner lining of my Winona, and any skeptical maitre d's or cashiers will immediately be sucked in about the extent of my great wealth.
And if that doesn't impress them, certainly my change purse and the very obvious reference to my Winona being all-leather will wow them. I don't anticipate any difficulties at all, although I put all my change in my pocket.
So today, I have mixed emotions. I'm giving up one bum buddy for another, who will be new and have her own character and will conform to my butt as she sees fit.
Wilma has asked to be cremated, but I don't know if I can bring myself to do that. I hear burning leather kind of smells.
I might just kind of keep her hanging around, just in case Winona doesn't work out or she dumps me...or I dump her.
