It was a long two days from last Sunday until Tuesday.But the story begins before that.For the past couple of years, I’ve carried my business cards around in my pocket inside a little leather card …
It was a long two days from last Sunday until Tuesday.
But the story begins before that.
For the past couple of years, I’ve carried my business cards around in my pocket inside a little leather card holder.
It was an upgrade from when I merely stuck a couple in my billfold where they would quickly become dog-eared and worn.
I guess if more people asked for my card, that wouldn’t have been a problem, but it didn’t take long for them to wear down regardless.
This little holder was brown, allegedly leather, and inexpensive, but it did the trick. And it quickly became one of the items in my pants pockets I check mindlessly and continually to make sure nothing tries to jump out.
I’m not sure if it jumped or not, but something happened to my little business card holder a couple of weeks ago. The last time I remember seeing it was when I gave someone a card right here in my office.
I took out my handy dandy holder and took one out.
And I would bet my last dime that I put it back in my pocket.
I’m not sure when I first missed it. It may have been the next day.
I looked around the house a bit, but not too much because I figured I had left it at the office.
It wasn’t at the office.
Then I turned the house upside down. I looked under the bed. I looked under the nightstand. I looked under the cat.
I kept thinking it would turn up, but it didn’t. That was a couple of weeks ago.
Last Sunday afternoon I ordered a replacement.
It would be in my hot little hand on Tuesday.
I don’t like to wait for things. I never have.
It’s not my fault. I was traumatized as a child.
I’ve told this before, but I’ll briefly tell it again.
When I was probably 12, I ordered a skateboard from the Western Auto store on main street in my hometown. I guess I ordered it on a Thursday, because I had to wait a full week before their truck would run the following Wednesday.
When Wednesday finally came, I pedaled my bike downtown and went in to pick it up.
It didn’t come.
I had to wait another week.
Traumatized, I say.
My business card holder was coming via free two-day shipping. But somehow or another I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I thought Tuesday would never come, and I have no rational reason for feeling this way.
I almost went home during the day to see if it had been delivered, but I managed to muster up enough maturity to get my mind on something else.
Unlike the skateboard incident, it came as scheduled.
Now I can get on with my life.
I am now also fully prepared to find my old one. That’s just the way the universe seems to work.
The other day we were talking about misplacing things, and Kim made some kind of a joke about misplacing something, then finding it in the refrigerator.
It’s not there. I looked.
I am anxiously awaiting the cat’s next hairball.
You never know.
(About the writer: Barry Currin is founder and president of White Oak Advertising and Public Relations, based in Cleveland. “Stories of a World Gone Mad” is published weekly. Email the writer at email@example.com.)
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