Rebel With A Pocket Knife

This will come as a surprise to those who know me, but I have become an admitted rule breaker. Gasp! I know, it’s hard to believe coming from someone who won’t put the car in gear if her passenger isn’t belted in and who still feels guilty from booking a condo for four people then sneaking in two more just to get a lower rate (that was two years ago!). I can only imagine how I would be if I hadn’t escaped Catholic school after only three years…

A few weeks ago, three of my buddies and I hit a spring training game. I had to stop for the cursory purse exam and wouldn’t you know, my pocket knife was exposed for all of the world to see (or at least for the door goon). He told me I couldn’t take it in. Sigh. I’ve carried it into so many events without even thinking about it and I’ve not knifed anyone yet so it was a tad frustrating.

Since the boys had no purses (not even man purses), they were already in the game. I called one of them, who quickly handed me over to another so I could ask him to come back out and do a handoff so he could carry the knife in his pocket (I didn’t want to walk all the way back to the car – I might have missed something going on inside the park after all). Handoff was completed but my bud insisted the goon was watching him every second and would have searched him if he tried to come back with it. So, he trudged back to the car and left the knife on my front tire. Fortunately, I remembered to retrieve it despite the beers I consumed during the game. (I did buy him a beer at the game as a thank-you because I’m nice that way.)

The next day, I had another baseball game so I took the knife out of my purse and left it in my car. But, when I went to the Suns game that night, I had an epiphany. I didn’t want to have to remember to take the knife out, leave it in my car, then put it back in my purse every time. I knew the one time I forgot to put the knife back into my purse, I would absolutely need it for something critical (like cutting clothes tags off after shopping). So, I decided to put it in my pocket and carry it into events then put it back in my purse once I was inside. Yes, from now on, I’m going to knowingly bring a concealed weapon into public establishments where they are clearly banned. Oh, I am such a bad girl!

Now, this is just an ordinary knife with a couple of blades, a scissors and a corkscrew that I bent while trying to open a bottle of wine while I was on the phone arguing with an ex-romantic victim. I’m afraid the poor corkscrew bore the brunt of the aggression generated from that discussion. It was even a free knife so I could have just dumped it in the trash at the game and not lost anything financially. But, it was a gift from my friend Keith and has sentimental value and dang it, I just like having it with me.

I’m afraid, though, that the knife may just be the start of my complete slide to the dark side. It could only be a small step from knife in pocket to an UZI under my jacket and C4 in my underwear. Maybe I should have stuck around for a couple more years with the Nuns…