(Note: In addition to that awesome photo of me and Doctor Doom, I acquired some kind of Goblin Death Virus in Orlando. Posts will likely be brief this week until I can figure out a way to either 1) fight it off or 2) form a symbiotic relationship with it in the hopes of gaining superpowers.)
One of the weirdest parts about coming home after a trip is cleaning out the pockets of whatever jacket you wore most of the time you were away. And there’s always junk in there, no matter how often you emptied them. It just…accumulates, like dust on the shelves or all those religious pamphlets in the mailbox. Six months after I return from a trip, I’ll find half a bar napkin or a coat check tag lodged in some inner crevice of my pocket.*
Think of the contents as the physical record of your trip. Ticket stubs, books of matches, small change in a foreign currency, dinner mints from far away restaurants, business cards from places you saw once…you can create an interesting picture of events from those things. It may not be an accurate picture, but it can be a lot more fun.
Your challenge today is to make me a character based only on the following items in their pockets:
1. A purple plastic cigarette lighter with Gina’s embossed on the side.
2. Half a torn business card. The visible half contains the surname Lewis, Esq. On the line below, it reads -aker, and gentlemen’s products. Established 1652 AD.
3. A single gold earring, missing its back.
4. A receipt for milk, bread, and seven pounds of bacon.
5. Four lint-covered jelly beans.
6. An unfired cartridge for a twelve-gauge shotgun, loaded with 00 buckshot.
7. A human tooth.
How did they acquire these items? What do they mean? What flavour are the jelly beans? Whose tooth is that?
You tell me.
*Which is odd, because given the amount of items I seem to find, there doesn’t seem to be enough room inside the pocket for all of them. New theory: Pockets of Holding.