August 2005

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I have a pen-stealing pocketbook.

There is, somewhere in the lining of my current pocketbook, a tiny tiny hole that allows pens (and a piece of bubblegum) to get trapped in between the lining and the bag's outer surface. I had felt the pens when I happened to touch the bottom of the bag, but it was the piece of bubblegum that made me take action.

I went in search of the hole. I couldn't find it. I kept feeling the pens, and the lump of bubblegum, but I could not find the hole in the lining.

Then it dawned on me. The bag itself had decided the pens and gum should belong to it. The bag apparently wanted to write its own shopping lists (perhaps to keep me from overloading it on shopping trips) and perhaps write letters to its companion bags in my collection. Maybe it wanted to write checks on my account. And have some gum for pleasure, mischief, or sweet-smelling breath.

But I could not let a pen-stealing pocketbook have its own way. I was afraid that the next things on its list of stealables would be my sunglasses, my cigarette case, and my wallet. And that just would not do.

So there had to be some punishment, not to mention I wanted my pens and gum back. I tried one more time to find the hole, then took drastic measures. I got the scissors and made a new, larger hole in the lining. This one is in a known location, of course, and was cut with the intention that it would be easy to repair.

I found four pens. I found the piece of bubblegum. I made sure there wasn't anything else in the space.

Then I patched the hole.

I plan to keep a close eye on those pens. The gum got chewed. And the pocketbook hasn't stolen anything else in the last few hours.

Perhaps its life of crime has come to an end. Perhaps it realized that while I am opposed to the death penalty for humans, I have no such objection to it for wayward pocketbooks. I don't know why it is on its best behavior. But I am pleased.