Cleaning out all the clutter from various rooms in the house, I dedicated a shoebox to all the pens that I came across this past week. I found pens scattered all over the house – in drawers, on dressers, by the phone, in the bathroom, even! The shoebox is totally full now, heaped over the top with pens, in all shapes, sizes and colors. I hardly ever use a pen or pencil to write anything these days – I type everything. But once in a while I need to write something on a shopping list or sign a letter and then I need a pen.
I wanted to fill out a deposit slip for my bank and needed a pen, so I went to the shoebox of pens I had collected and took one out. I scribbled on a scrap piece of paper to get the ink flowing, but nothing came out. So I threw that one in the trash and went back to the shoebox to get a different pen. I scribbled with that one to get the ink flowing and again – nothing came out. So, again I threw away that pen and went back to the shoebox. I mean, WTF?
The third pen I picked from the shoebox didn’t write, either. Now I was getting mad. I sat down with a pad of paper and started going through the pens in the shoebox, scribbling with each one to see if it would write. If it didn’t write, into the trash can it went. I must have spent a good 20 minutes scribbling with pens and throwing out the ones that had dried out or run out of ink.
A thousand pens and nothing to write with. It makes me wonder why the pens were not tossed out when someone discovered they weren’t working in the first place, instead of just setting them down wherever and leaving them laying around. This would have been a great task for a kid to do for me. I wish I had thought of that before I wasted a half hour scribbling with pens to finally find one that would write.