Tonight I emptied out mine and found:1. Silver cigarette case. I’ve started rolling my own cigarettes and need somewhere to lump them. Like all the things I like, it feels good in the hand. It snaps open like a clam shell, easy as a gesture.
2. Packet of liquorice rizla papers. See above.
3. Asthmatic Bic cigarette lighter, dull as a broken lego brick.
4. Old silver ring someone gave it to me one glorious day on the beach way back, that day she said there were dolphins in my eyes. She’s gone - and I don’t wear it - but I like to keep it near me sometimes, to remind me someone else - and I - can love that much. It’s my talisman against settling for less.
5. Piece of shit clam-shell cell phone that’s about as clever as a nine volt scalectix set. Texting on it is slower than semaphore.
6. 250Mb flash drive. Last night’s work and some other random crap on it. Sadly no Defcon 1 missile launch codes.
7. Passport-sized notebook, for catching exciting stray ideas and mundane grocery lists. Right now it’s scribbled with cock-eyed storyboards for a spoof James Bond trailer Nick and I are making.
8. Jane’s writing manifesto, printed to bookmark size. She wrote it a few months ago, to kick my arse into writing stuff down.
9. Lamy fountain pen with a broad nib (the only sort that makes my spidery writing legible, even to me) and Parker sapphire ink. They don’t make this ink anymore, but if you wrote someone just a grocery list in this deep india blue, they’d jump trains, switch buses and walk blocks to see you.
10. Wallet with drivers licence, a waning debit card, maxed-out credit card, and about R125.40 bucks in change, after all the tequilas I bought tonight.
I think you can tell lots about a person by turning out their pockets. What’s in yours?