One thing I think about as I walk down to my truck which is parked out on my street to retrieve my wallet out of the front compartment where I habitually stow away on a daily basis, is how much I really do my best to separate myself from any responsibilities that await me in this little piece of leather bound mischief, like keeping up with my transactions I make with my debit card daily, or any late movies that I might have built up fees to of the last few months in which I’m reminded by the pretty purple piece of plastic that is kind enough to show its existence in my worn-out black leather wallet. Primarily, I now remember, the reason I started putting my wallet in the front compartment in my poor old red Toyota pickup is because the chiropractor had suggested that I do that in order to correct my messed up back, in which I see no positive change, so it seems pointless but my wallet just seems to fit nicely and comfortably in my cold and damp front compartment of my worn-out mistress.
I immediately started rummaging through my ‘identity’ and unfolded it. Right away started cringing at all the receipts in the center compartment where there should be countless bills of 20’s and 50’s. The nice thing is I realize that I am well organized with my receipts because each one has a near perfect crease in the middle of each and every piece of paper. That seemed to disinterest me real fast because it didn’t make sense to organize such an uncomfortable situation. So I moved to the deeper, inner most compartments where I found old business cards that I had stowed away for over several months, or since I bought the wallet at the fair last summer. I think I went through about 13 business cards, most of them were from business rep’s from the fair that were just needing business and I was reminded that I wanted to give these people hope. I wasn’t necessarily taking them thinking that I needed a Jacuzzi or a set of Penguin windows anytime soon, since I don’t even own a home, but just to make somebody feel good about themselves because I know how it feels to be turned down.
Next I found something that seemed to take quite an effort getting to. This particular item took me back 14 years in my life when I was given some fake “Dog Tags” by my older sister for my 12th birthday. In scripted on it is “05201984” “05-20-1984” “OCS” and “Christian” which because all those things defined who I was at the time and the fantasy of wanting to be in the Army reminds me of how much my family supported me and still does to this day. It kind of saddens me because I only remember having those stupid little fantasies and dressing up in my BDU’s and then putting those flashy little pieces of metal around my neck giving me a sense of security and belonging in my own world of fantasy, but I look back and think how immature I really was. I don’t know why I still have it, maybe to remind myself of my loving family or to remind myself how much I really have changed because of the real world that screams out of the compartment on the other side of a thin piece of leather.
Next I move to my driver’s license window which I pull this curious little thing out to examine it thoroughly, looking at my picture thinking “Man, I could’ve at least shaved and combed my hair before revealing my true self in front of the world!” but then I thought that every time somebody goes to look at my license picture of me clean shaven and well-groomed and then look at the real me, they might think “Man, this guy has some real identity issues!” because if I know myself I wouldn’t have time to groom myself everyday like I’m told by society in today’s “American” culture. So in the long run, beneficially, I’m glad that I chose the day I did to renew my drivers license and subconsciously forget to shave and comb my hair.
Underneath my drivers license I found my Social Security Card, which I distinctly remember putting under my driver’s license because I like to be prepared but still cautious. I realized that there could be a risk in making the choice of keeping my Soc. card in my wallet, but if there’s one thing I hate in this world is my own faults and I hate forgetting something, and I’ve gone into places where they needed a copy of my SSN and I didn’t have it. The funny thing is, most of us by the time we’re rearing towards adulthood, our ‘government-given number’ is something that we’re forced into memorizing so we automatically just start doing what we can do to remember these things, and isn’t ironic that these cards are already in these convenient little wallet sized pieces of paper and so one would feel obliged to see if it fits, and look what we have, another stupid piece of paper clotting up my wallet. “Stupid?” you may ask, I say “YES!!!” because you hear of so many situations of people stealing another’s identity because one person thought it be a good idea and put his/her Soc. card in his/her wallet/purse and WHOOPS didn’t see that coming! Well what am I ranting for? I am one of those morons! Ok maybe I’m careless, but like I said I like to be prepared and it just goes to show that I do my best to be responsible and put the card underneath my diver’s license and out of sight. Also I just realized that I have an alarm on my poor, beat-up truck.
Anyway, to finish up, I was brought to my most favorite part of my wallet, pictures. The first picture I pull out is of my niece, Madisen, having her school picture taken. I starred at the picture for what must have seemed an hour, but really was only about a minute and being I’m reminded by her two front teeth missing that when I was her age, I could remember when I lost my front teeth, I was teased so much about that, but I can look back and laugh and share the same immaturities and growing pains with my only niece. Looking at the picture also reminded of how lucky I am to be an uncle, but how much responsibility is involved in being somebody to look up to. Maybe that’s why I go to college? The second picture I had stored for some time was of my nephew, Brandon, a few years younger than his sister Madisen. The picture was probably given to me at the same time when I got the first picture of my niece. My nephew reminds me of myself when I was his age, full of energy, mischief but yet reserved and shy. I’m also reminded of some fun times I’ve had playing outside on the trampoline and just what an amazing gift it is being apart of another’s life in their growing process and how important that is.
Well that just about raps it up with unfolded identity in a piece of leather. I hope this has been as entertaining and as much of a learning experience to you as it was to me. Thank you!
