Disaster!

A terrible disaster happened in my purse. It was ghastly!  A pen that I have had for 5 years exploded its guts all over the inside pocket. That’s gratitude for you!  I loved that pen. I took it with me everywhere, drew lovely doodles with it, and showed it to my friends as the best pen in the whole world!

Maybe it was holding a grudge over that time I accidentally left it in the car overnight when it was -25 degrees, but that was 3 years ago and I hardly think that was a good excuse to commit pen suicide.  I apologized after all, and everything seemed okay.  It’s not like it left blotches or didn’t lay down an even trail of ink to indicate that there might be a crisis brewing.

No, the first indication I had that something was amiss was all over my left hand as I fiddled around for my Blistex.

We got here because The Viking and I needed a weekend away from the phones and the customers; we need that sometimes so a disaster of a different sort doesn’t happen. We carefully analyzed where most people would be going for that weekend then went in the opposite direction.  That’s why we ended up in Fort Walsh – the site of the Cypress Hill Massacre (appropriate or what?).

My left hand was covered in the life blood of my dying pen, as was the Blistex, the other pen I keep in there so my favorite pen doesn’t get lonely (I can’t imagine the trauma it was experiencing), a pack of gum, 3 quarters, an old shopping list, something fuzzy that could be a Werthers candy and The Viking’s reading glasses. I went to the washroom right away to wash the ink off, trying to get rid of the evidence of the violence.  FYI…..that stupid foamy crap public washrooms are now stocking and calling soap is useless.

The Viking seemed skeptical when I said the soap crap wouldn’t take away the ink but barring him entering the ladies room and supervising, he had to just take my word for it. And that’s why we ended up at Safeway looking for lighter fluid, which they didn’t have.  What they did have though, was Gas Line Antifreeze (don’t ask me why they stock it in the middle of summer because I couldn’t find an employee to answer that question) and The Viking assured me it could remove the ink from my hand.  I just wanted to be clean; every glance at my hand was a reminder of what had happened.

Once back in the hotel room, I proceeded to use that stuff and it didn’t work. The Viking said “Give that to me!” like I was doing it wrong or something.  Couldn’t he see how upset I was?  He started rubbing at the ink in the proper manner and……it didn’t come off.  What kind of evil ink is Bic using that is impervious to Gas Line Antifreeze?!

When The Viking put on his reading glasses to get a better look at the evil stain on my hand, ink transferred to the bridge of his nose.  His beloved face was tainted now; I had to look away. Not wanting to use Gas Line Antifreeze on his face he tried soap first.

“I told you.” I said with just a hint of righteous indignation.  I also put a thumb print on his lower back.  Just because.  I may have an evil streak.  In my defence, I had just witnessed a disaster of epic proportions!  “That shit is immune to soap.  I’m writing a letter to Bic as soon as we get home!”  I didn’t write the letter but had I written it, it would have been scathing.

In the end, the Antifreeze took the ink off The Viking’s nose which is weird, and off his glasses, so eventually I could look at his face again.  By the time we arrived home on Sunday most of the ink had worn off my left hand so I didn’t have to hide it anymore.  The evidence of the disaster was so fleeting I felt almost guilty that I hadn’t thought about my pen for minutes at a time.

As far as disasters go, this one wasn’t high on the carnage scale. I have questions though.  Would this have happened if we had just stayed home?  Was there something I should have seen; something I missed?  Was I to blame?  If I had been more kind and understanding would my pen have still taken its own life?  Was it an event that was just fated to happen?  I guess I’ll never know the answers to those questions but they will haunt me for a long time.

I now have an ink blue splotch on the inside of my purse and I did lose that fuzzy Werthers candy, but overall the casualties were low. I now take the time to check in with my new pen to make sure it isn’t harboring any brooding grudges and I try to give it more compliments than I gave to my old pen.  I have set up a trust fund to help pens in crisis and I travel the neighborhood educating others so this type of heinous disaster never happens again.  Education is the key.

Disaster