You know who you are

Dear Pen Borrowers AKA My least favorite type of THEIF,

I like you just about as much as I like people who can’t function without coffee in the morning.  (That’s a WHOLE nother blog.) (Is “nother” a word?) (Should it be that’s a whole other blog?) ANYWAY

Just curious, but is there a sign hovering above me that says, “Yes, I have an extra pen and SURE you can steal it.”? There must be.  At least once a week a stranger asks me if I have an extra writing utensil.  Immediately I try to visualize the contents of my bag, struggling to remember if I have a pen that I wouldn’t mind losing forever.  Sometimes I happen to have a hotel pen that I acquired at some point and wouldn’t mind never seeing again.  Sometimes I say, “yes” out of the kindness of my heart and watch helplessly as you pack up your things at the end of class and walk away with my property.  Other times, especially when I’m in a bad mood, I say “no.”  Then I spend the rest of the class worrying if my backpack unzipped itself and exposed the 25 pens I lied about not having. 

What I am getting at here is something I think a lot of people have fallen victim to at your hands.  You pen borrowers show up late to class, sweaty and frazzled. 

“Man it’s humid out there!”  Yea, we know.

You disrupt the universe in a frenzy of disorganization.  “Gosh, it’s just really one of those days!”  Funny, EVERYDAY for me is one of those days and I still managed to show up on time and with something to write with.

Even if you’re on time, I always notice you before you even ask me.  You dig through your purse or backpack, pretending like you think you have something in there when you know damn well you DON’T.  You stop to see if anyone noticed and is going to offer you a pen.  You sigh and continue rummaging.  Finally you look for someone with a backpack, a backpack that looks full.  You think, “okay…no she never talks in class so she probably doesn’t have extras…he’s like 35 and creepy so I won’t ask him…that kid is drooling on his Metallica hoodie so he most likely won’t share anything with me…HER! Yea! She talks an average amount! She has a backpack AND a planner out on her desk.  She must have extras!” Then you start to turn in your desk and lean towards me across the aisle.  I hate when you lean. 

“Do you by any chance have an extra pen or pencil?” DAMNIT. YES I DO BUT I DON’T WANT YOU TO USE IT.

Sometimes I say yes without any planning or bag visualizing.  Then I rummage through my bag only to find that the only spare is my limited edition # 2 out 10, white gold pen with pure silver ink.  Well, I said I had an extra so I can’t change my mind now.  Of course, I don’t feel like writing with it today so instead of just switching my amazing pen for the one I already started using, I let you use the nice one.  THEN I REALIZE WHAT I’VE JUST DONE and it’s too late.

So I have decided that unless you are pregnant, dying, mentally disabled, Brad Pitt, God, or all of the above, then NO you cannot use my pen.

Now go drink your coffee before your head explodes.

Tags: Tallahassee, Writing

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Compulsive snacker. Bleeding heart. Unhealthy obsession with Tom Hanks and cats. Florida State and Syracuse University alum.
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