I know I'm getting older because my wallet is getting bigger. With each passing year it grows more bulky and more unwieldy a thing to sit on. There is a noticeably increasing angle when I sit down. The people behind me in class are placing bets on when I'll finally topple.
And I wonder, do wallets ever get smaller? My father long ago abandoned any hope of fitting his in his back pocket. Indeed, it would look somewhat foolish to use a mountain of credit cards and various gift cards (none of which contain more than $1.76) as a perch on which to sit. Now he keeps it in his coat, where it can grow with impunity.
The only thing saving me from this uncomfortable fate is the fact that I will never have any cash to put in there. But my perpetual lack of funds is more than compensated for by the plethora of gift cards, IDs and receipts I never remember to use yet refuse to discard.
At some point though, there has to be a time when I decide I've had enough, that I'll no longer subject myself to weeks and months of discomfort because I think one day I'll need a coupon for two dollars off an appetizer at Applebee's. I don't even know if there is an Applebee's in Madison.
I remember my first wallet. It was a nylon Velcro wallet with a White Sox logo. At 10 or so, you don't have much cash beyond change and the occasional allowance money, so I filled it with random cards and a forged driver's license made out of construction paper.
After a few days I ditched the wallet because it was annoying to play baseball with. Clearly I was much more sensible back then.
I suspect this quandary was the motivation behind the man purse, although anthropologists are reluctant to say so with any conviction.
But the man purse was doomed from its very inception, due to its inherent logic. We all know the back pocket is a terrible idea in the first place, surpassed only by the idea to put our most important possessions there. The wallet defies logic or explanation, which gives it the allure we seek. As men, we like the fact that we can have everything we'll need right there.
If there was an ankle pocket, we might put our wallets there. My proof is in the fact that women are constantly looking through our wallets, as if in amazement that we are able to carry around everything we need in a space the size of a butt cheek.
They have to take everything out and inspect it like an archeological dig. It's probably why guys keep pictures of family there. What better place to convince her you're a family man then when she's inspecting your gym membership card while pretending not to notice how much cash you have?
That's why I could never have a money clip. I'd feel horribly unprepared for such a situation. Sure I could put the big bills on the outside, but Mr. Lincoln just doesn't impress people the way he used to. I suppose I'll just accept my fate and hope that someday construction paper becomes legal tender.
