I am not quite sure about my origins. My guess is that it was from some sort of factory. I made my way onto the shelf at a local Novelty store. One day, a young woman came and grabbed me. At this moment, I sit on her desk. From what I can tell, she is rather attached to me. She uses me to write almost everything, such as her checks, to-do lists, signing for packages, jotting down phone numbers, etc. This was a very strange morning because she decided to take me in her purse. I think she had some appointments that day. I sat nestled inside the inner pocket of her purse. She walked into a local restaurant to meet some of her friends for breakfast. After she and her friends had breakfast, she decided that she would pay for her friends’ breakfasts. So, she pulled out her credit card. The waiter happily took her credit card over to scan it. The waiter returned but was missing a pen to sign the receipt with. My owner reached into her purse and pulled me out. She signed the receipt and returned it to the waiter. After returning the receipt, she became so distracted with the gossip she was hearing about her former friends that she got up and left me on the table. Time passed. I wondered if she would discover that she left me behind. I sat at the table until a waiter came along and cleaned the table. He noticed me and picked me up. He admired my beauty and originality. He slipped me into his pocket. I stayed in his pocket until his shift was over. He took me home and sat me on his dresser. I spent the night there. Morning arrived; his daughter entered his room and noticed me. She picked me up and took me to her room. She put me in her backpack. She was so excited because she had a new pen for school. I rode in her backpack to school. When she arrived, her teacher gave her a writing assignment. She gladly pulled me out and began writing in cursive. I love cursive. Her friend looked over and admired me. Her friend asked to use me when she was done. She said yes to her friend and handed me to him. The class ended and she forgot to get me back from her friend. So, her friend put me in his shoulder bag. I stayed there for days until he noticed me again and remembered that he had forgotten to return me to his friend. He placed me on the desk next to his computer. He left the room to visit his friend’s house. His mom came in and the phone rang. I heard her talking to someone. Suddenly, the caller asked his mom if she had a pen and paper to write this number down. His mother quickly grabbed a piece of paper and me to write down the name and number. I think it was something like “Tom at 323-555-7865 ext. 2” The call ended and his mom put the phone down and left the room with me still in her hand. She placed me on the counter near her car keys. Morning came. Everyone in the house was scrambling to leave for their varying busy days. The mother noticed me next to her car keys, grabbed me, and put me in her purse. I went to work with her that day. Her day was rather busy; it consisted of meetings and more meetings. One meeting that took place required note-taking. Before the presenter began her presentation, she handed the audience her PowerPoint outline. After being handed the outline by the presenter, my new owner reached into her purse and grabbed me. She began taking very quick and sloppy notes. My guess was that she was trying to keep up with the presenter who was whipping through her slides. The meeting ended, and back into her purse, I went. My new owner went to lunch and returned to her desk. She pulled me out again to finish her speech outline for the next board meeting. Her day ended. She decided to leave me on her desk in her pen container. I stayed there all night with the other pens. This is where it got interesting. A local custodian approached her desk to clean it. Somehow the custodian knocked over the container with me in it. I rolled under the desk. The custodian attempted to find every pen but missed me. I laid under the desk for a couple of days. After a couple of days, another custodian swept the area of the desk and discovered me. He quickly bent over to admire me. He decided to place me in his pocket for safekeeping. I went home with him that night. From there, it is all a blur, somehow I ended up on the desk of a local English college professor. My best guess is that it all happened as follows: I was discovered by the janitor who took me home, gave me to his daughter who was taking English at the local community college, she must’ve left me on her desk, the professor saw me on her desk and took me back to his office.
The journey never ends for me. I live the life of the most adventurous and desirable pen around.
Mercedes Tucker 