Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Mightier, and pointier, than the sword.

Does the average intelligent human being stab him/herself in the hand with a pen every so often? I didn’t think so. Yet another reason I’m anything but the norm.

A callous sits on my left pointer finger, a self-inflicted tattoo resulting from years of the occasional puncture wound. Evidently, I suffer from a severe lack of hand/eye coordination, or more appropriately, pen/pen-cap coordination. And before you ask, yes I do have to put the cap on the pen with that much force. You don’t get the satisfying *snap* otherwise. Duu-uh.

See, I’m the type of person for whom stupid instructions are included on products, like “Do not use this Ryobi Power Drill while skiing” or “Sterno not to be taken internally, but if you think it’s a good idea anyway, go right ahead and take yourself out of the gene pool, Einstein...”

Then again, even if every pen I’ve ever used had a disclaimer telling me how to properly, safely re-cap it (Step 1: finish drawing stick figure of self with superman cape and spitcurl. Step 2: show doodle to Lisa, watch her not laugh, then hope she doesn’t leave you. Step 3: tell Lisa that yes, you really are working on Tort Law and that you love her. Step 4: give pen to her to re-cap because you obviously can’t handle the responsibility. Step 5: wonder at the fact that you’re going to be a dad soon. Step 6: I mean, really! Step 7: they make you get a license to catch a fish, but “Ol’ Pen Hand Woundy” legally gets to have a kid?!? Step 8: un-fucking-believable...) I doubt it would help much. We all know I’d find some other way to puncture my hand.

But in the meantime, there the callous sits, like a table kept open for me at my least favorite restaurant. Mocking me. Reminding me that it’ll happen again sooner or later. In a bad year, I’ll stab myself maybe three or four times, bad enough to draw blood and make me whine like a little bitch. Let me tell you, when you expect to hear a satisfying *snap* and instead you get a pen tip a half centimeter into your pointer finger... it hurts like a mother.

So I’ve been extra careful capping my pens, lately, since I know that my number is up any day now. If past performance is any indicator, I’m due. But recently, during lunch, I was so intent on properly putting away my pen that I bit my cheek. Which also hurt like a mother... Touché, callous.

1 comment:

Wes said...

Mike, you know that they make pens that retract into themselves right? No cap needed. And what's more, they make a sweet "click" everytime you engage the mechanism at the top of the pen. They're safe, fun, and if you take them apart you find a neat little spring to shoot at classmates/wifes/crows.