Encore: The Big Move

Today was a big day.

I had make a shift.

A transplantation.

A move of epic proportions.

I moved into a new wallet.

I’ve been using a plastic baggie as a wallet for some time now. It all started when I was in Victoria and kept setting off the security devices at the Bay. It turned out to be my old black leather wallet purchased years and years and years ago. Somewhere deep inside the bowels of its pockets lay a device that had somehow been re-magnetized which meant I beeped at the entrance of every store I entered… and exited. I knew it was my wallet because a helpful little salesman held my purse as I tested out almost every article of my clothing by passing it through the scanner. He then held my coat as I tested the contents of my purse. Eventually isolating said wallet. He did warn me that as soon as I brushed passed merchandise that was magnified I could start beeping again.

And I did.

I finally got so tired of being viewed as a klepto I stuffed everything from the wallet into an extra “on flight” plastic baggie I picked up at the airport.

I’ve been using it ever since. Every time I pay for a coffee, buy groceries, show ID, I pull out my sad little baggie and dig around for the appropriate card. Enjoying the interesting juxtaposition of the worn plastic and my coveted Coach bag.

Until today.

Today I found the prettiest crocus purple wallet. It’s shiney and blingy and totally not “me”.

Which is why I bought it.

It will be stored in the belly of my purse. So far it’s sitting there without any great disruptions.

In cleaning out the old wallet I found some very interesting items. Why is it I insist on keeping random debit slips? I have every Starbucks debit slip from the month of October 08 . Don’t know why? I just do. I have five, yes that’s five, Starbucks cards and 3 Esquires with no more than ten cents on each. A couple of free carwash cards. A couple of photographs of my nieces before they were school age and a Remembrance day poppy. Hmm, I’ve also found a golf tee, my plastic emergency admittance bracelet and 4 buttons from various shirts and sweaters that have fallen off and found their way into the zippered change pocket.

Cleaning out the old wallet has turned out to be an arduous task, almost as arduous as buying a wallet. But what I’ve discovered is that the contents of a wallet can tell a lot about the person. And I don’t mean the obvious information you get from official identification like a drivers license or a birth certificate. I’m a coffee loving auntie who enjoys golf, has been at the hospial recently and observes Remembrance day. I also have the tendency to appear slightly disheavled with missing buttons and a dirty vehicle.

What this new wallet will say about me,

only time will tell.


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