Friday, May 23, 2008

Unlock My Heart

I had been living in my new apartment two weeks, when I lost one of the my keys. It was own damned fault, I never put them on a key ring.

So right before the gym, I went to have a new set made, and I was determined to now put them on a keychain with some sort of attachment so I couldn't lose them. As with most things, I experienced a degree of internal consternation, as whatever "toy" you put on the end of your key ring is a reflection of who you are, it speaks for you and says volumes about the kind of person you are. (what also says volumes about who you are: as I write this I am eating peanut butter and strawberry preserves alternately, straight out of the jar.

So I have no idea what I would want on the end of my keyring. At a loss for an immediate inspiration, I decide I will find something wonderfully kitschy and San Franisco touristy because a) these are easy to find in San Francisco, b) it reflects that I have a sense of humor, and c)it's a great stop-gap solution until I find something truly astounding and profound, like, I don't know, Dick Cheney's treatise on gun safety miniaturized and bronzed.

So after my little run-in with my former student, I got off the subway downtown, and I figured I would just find something then and there. I refused to put off another important thing. I was hoping I would ascend from the Hadesian confines of the the MUNI, the clouds would part, a ray of light would shine through towering office buildings, and I would find some fated sidewalk vendor hawking tourist novelties that are just ghastly enough in their cheese factor as to warrant an instant grin.

No such vendor coalesced. Downtown, was, in fact very vendor free :(.

Undeterred, I walked into the Walgreens. Something would have to do. In fact, there is an entire little section of tourist wares by the entry.

This is where I get nutty. I spent about 20 minutes deliberating over the perfect fucking key chain "toy". What the hell are they called anyway? I was very tempted to get a little Fisherman's Wharf copper crab, but then it made me think of the STD crabs, and then what if it wasn't "out there" enough and people just thought i was oddly sentimental about crustaceans. I was also tempted by the miniature snow globes that cascaded gold glitter onto the city of San Francisco, but while its kitsch was perfect, it's odd shape was ungainly for pocket storage. The last thing I need in San Francisco is some odd shaped bulge in my pants. I could go through all of them, but suffice it to say, I finally settled on some long, narrow plastic Chinatown attachment, by which I was completely uncharmed and was already planning to throw away once I found a suitable replacement.

As I proceeded to the cold drinks section to purchase a pre-workout protein-laden beverage, I spotted a non-tourist keychain attachment: a small LED flashlight. The blue one caught my eye; it had a really cool ice-blue light, but upon reflection, I realized the blue was not a very strong light. After trying out every color they had in this bin of 99 cent keychain toys, I finally settled on an all black flashlight with a white light. A part of me regretted this choice because black was so boring, but it is a very versatile color, and I figured white would be most practical if ever actual wanted to use a miniature LED flashlight.

Disappointed by my own pragmatism, I spotted fun farm animals with LED eyes!!!!! I was on the brink of purchasing a Holstein heifer, when my pragmatism jumped in and said that while I wanted to be humorous, I didn't want people in business sectors to look at my cow and think I was completely unserious (You know, cause everyone in my Fortune 500 firm might start talking). I set the cow down, and walked to the register to purchase my flashlight, detestable piece of Chinatown plastic, and Muscle Milk, hoping I would soon find something more "John Q" in the Haight.

Why good heavens am I sharing this pointless story??? Because this is exactly what it's like for John in his head when he is shopping! For anything: cake for a party, socks, a new desk lamp. So now that I have incriminatingly bared my warped inner-workings, you will know that when I say I am crazy, it does not just apply to my mild bipolar, I am indeed crazy neurotic. I think this is why I like hanging out with neurotic Easterners. At times, they make me seem downright chill.

Oh and by the way, I have now inexplicably tangled my keys on my two key rings. At first, I thought i would be brilliant to have the two indistinguishable keys on separate rings; now, i have created my own fun Chinese puzzle. And I still often forget which key is on the Chinatown ring and which one is on the LED ring. I am so freakin' brilliant!

1 comment:

David said...

Your keychain adventure - and your strange nutritional habits while blogwriting - certainly prove one thing: that you are a raving lunatic! LOL

Q: "What the hell are they called anyway?"
A: Pretty sure they're just called charms. :)

And you're right, one's keychain might indeed say something about the type of person one is. Case in point - I have nothing on my keychain, lol. I just concentrate on the perfect way to hold my keys so as to cause maximum damage to an attacker's internal organs should the need arise.

Great blog JQ!