Wednesday, July 20, 2011

"You're exactly the mutant I'm looking for! You're hired."

Would you like one more demonstration of how precisely strange I am?

I received an email the other day from a co-worker. “I am looking to purchase a black permanent marker that is odorless and that does not bleed through. Do you know of any? I looked in the Office Max catalog and all they had were the fine point ones. [My boss] would like one that has a larger point or chiseled.”

Of course, I Googled it and the links I found on that results list sent me into full-scale art marker lust. I quickly sent my response (“I don’t know of any, but it sounds like one used for art (or one with pigments instead of dye) might be what you are looking for”) and then I ogled the art pens and markers for a bit, all the while thinking back to the words of the radio deejay the morning before when he talked about the “art of buying a pen”. His fellow deejay mocked and laughed, but I nodded in invisible agreement.

Because for my husband, there is definitely an art to buying a pen. The man has serious taste in pens. And in pencils, for that matter (but only when he calls himself “student”).

But for me, bring on a great art store with some fabulous art markers, pencils and pens and I am in Code 3 trouble, particularly when I encounter something called a writer’s pen. Oh! Bring me one in every color please and I would lay them carefully on my bed and roll in them like they were new, crisp Benjamins.

And now you know.

[Title quote is from "Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium"]

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