The other night a few of us were out having drinks at Gracie’s, and when I pulled my wallet out of my purse a certain someone at the table yelled, “WHOA, COSTANZA!!”.
I was slightly confused and it took me a short minute to remember what Costanza’s wallet actually looked like.
Then my jaw dropped open and and I hollered, WHAT DO YOU MEAN? I won’t give away who this person was that called me out, but I will tell you that I didn’t buy her any drinks that night.
When the table was laughing at my new nickname, some of them started pulling stuff out of its many hiding places for inspection. I looked down at my bulging, 15-year old wallet and the small, reasonable section of my brain understood.
I guess my big wallet is a little out of style. And I guess I keep too much shit in it. It’s pretty damn fat.
I actually thought I was doing pretty well on the wallet front. I mean, I just recently cleaned that sucker out and threw away LOTS of punch cards, receipts, business and credit cards that I hadn’t used in at least three years. The table also laughed when Stacia pulled out some credit cards that were still hiding in there in which I HAVEN’T EVEN ACTIVATED. Like they still have the stickers on the front and everything.
I guess I will never use a Kohl’s card or a Mervyn’s card or a Dillard’s card. Come to think of it, I don’t think Mervyn’s is even in business any more.
I keep my old wallet because I figured that in terms of fashion, a wallet is very low on the totem pole of importance, unless you are carrying it in your hand instead of a purse. That’s why I love the purse I got from Cami. It holds LOTS OF SHIT, like wet wipes, sixty pens, twenty tubes of lipstick, rolls of Sweet Tarts, and iPod, a bag of nuts, and my big-ass wallet. And there’s room to spare!
Maybe this is a good excuse to re-organize. I can go out and buy three new smaller wallets. Then I can put money in one, credit cards in the other, and my various plots to save myself money in the third. I can’t say no to a punch card. I just can’t do it.
And after reading all about George Costanza on Wikipedia (just as a refresher, you know…and I am kind of obsessed with Wikipedia), I am going to be proud to be compared to that neurotic little sucker. I really, really love how he calls himself the “Lord of the Idiots”.
That’s so awesome.
If I am going to be somewhat of an apprentice Lord of the Idiots, I think this says a lot about the people who I hang out with. Yes, YOU GUYS.
There’s no shame in our game, peeps. It’s totally OK.
Let’s all revel in our idiotic stature, and lead our fiefdom of hapless subjects with pride in our lunacy and confidence that, in the end, we will WIN. Because those Cafe Rio punch cards will get us a FREE burrito the size of Rhode Island. And you never know…Mervyn’s may re-open someday.