As previously stated, I have a very complicated relationship with my wallet. We're like a couple in an abusive relationship that neither party is willing to leave because "maybe this time it will be different." Like, "maybe this time he won't get lost on the streetcar," or "maybe this time he won't try to broil me alongside homemade croutons." Our cycle of abuse is legendary in the public transportation office of any city I've lived in and a source of neverending snickering from my friends. Evidently, psychological battery is funny to some people.
Thusly, I present an illustrated history of me and Wallet.
Illustrious D: Omagawd, I can't believe I got a Louis Vuitton wallet for mah 18th birthday! I will love you and treasure you for life! Yes, I will! Cootchy-cootchy-c-...
Bitch-Ass Wallet: What up, baiznatch.
ID: Hey, there's no need for that kind of language. You are supposed to act like a gentleman.
BAW: Gentleman this
ID: Wow. Rude.
BAW: Know what else is rude? Your face.
ID: Good one.
So we got off to a bit of a rocky start, specifically when he insisted on calling me "ADRIAAAAN" for the first six months. After a short while together, we went on a three-month-iversary to Winner's.
ID: Hey, this bag is really fly. How'd you like to ride around in that?!
BAW: Yeah. Sure. Whateverz.
ID: Cause it even has these awesome snappy pockets so you'll never get los-...hey, what are you doing?
ID: You were for totes checking out that little Chanel number!
BAW: What? Nah. You trippin'.
ID: Trippin' over your lechery, mayhaps. We have been over this! You like other boy wallets! FERRAGAMO! That's it, we be out! Hey, where'd you go?
BAW: [be all hiding in tube sock bin]
ID: Fuck me...
That was the first time of many when Wallet would decide to venture out into the world without adult supervision. Although, there was one occasion where some of the aforementioned snickery friends were directly responsabbible for our separation.
Music School Walletophile: Hey, there little wallet.
BAW: Wha-? You talkin' to me?
MSW: I don't see any other cutie-patootie wallets around.
BAW: Oh, garsh...
MSW: What say you and I go for a little ride in mah van together?
BAW: I dunno, the awesome [and handsome] guy that carries me around said to stay right here so that his dumbass behind could find me later.
MSW: I got candy.
BAW: LET'S DO THIS.
So then they went off together and didn't bother telling me 'til the next day, causing me to be all angsty and post a real PO'ed rant about takin' mah shit and then not telling me 'til the next day which I'm not gonna link cause I was all angsty. 'Preciate.
Mid-point Review: My wallet is a whore who will go with anyone from transit ticket takers to Superstore check-out clerks. This li'l gem of a story happened last December the day before I was to fly home to Winnipeg
ID: Gee, we got on the 502 car instead of the 501. I hope we'll be alright, little buddy
BAW: Get the AIDS and die.
BAW: Bet on maids and pie
BAW: *cheeky eyebrow raise*
ID: Are you having a stroke in instalments?
Obese Bus Driver: This streetcar will be turning at McCaul so haul ass outta herr.
ID: Son of a bitch! I knew I should not have listened to you and your "The higher the number the fewer poor people are on board" logic. [Dismounts streetcar] I cannot believe you suckered me with xenophobia yet again! When we get home I'm gonna bend you over and rap-
After that, I vowed never again to be taken in by that little scamp. I called up my friends and crowed, "Well, guess who the fuckity-fuck has gone and left himself on the streetcar again. You know what? I don't even care. I have another one just waiting at home BEGGING to hold all my shit. That's it! We are done! WE ARE DO- hello?"
Our great tale would end there was it not for a cooking misadventure last week involving my tardiness at Stove Orientation when I moved into my building, resulting in turning on the wrong burner and branding my little man like the cow hide he is, in fact, not made out of
BAW: Holy crap balls, that is the lamest drawing ever.
ID: YOU SHUT YOUR STUPID MOUTH.
BAW: No, seriously, dude. That bandaid looks like a cross section of an egg sunny side up.
ID: Actually, that's fair.
BAW: The blood detailing is nice though.
ID: Thank you.