Partly Cloudy, 64°
Point: Are you really asking for this pen back?
It's a typical day in class when suddenly my laptop battery dies. I can't Facebook, G-Chat, or Image Search disturbing things that traumatize the people sittting behind me. Time to bring it back to the 5th grade and resort to some good ol' fashioned doodling. Unfortunately, I didn't bring a pen.
You give me a ballpoint BIC with minimal chew marks. Nice. Notice how I used the word "give" as opposed to "lend." You're a student, not a bank (although your Dad might own a few). But, like every other prick who lends me a pen, you turn to me at the end of class and ask, "Dude, can I get that pen back?"
Really? You really want this pen back? Are you kidding? How cheap are you that you can't let a 5 cent pen slide through the cracks? I obviously need it - I have other classes today and I've got to finish the stick-figure flipbook at the bottom corner of the textbook. Here's a nickel, go buy yourself an ice cream cone from 1935.
Oh, now I get it. It's your "favorite pen." Who the fuck has a favorite pen? Unless this thing has a laser point or explodes, then it's like any other pen. Well, I guess I have something like a favorite pen; it's called a laptop and it's way more useful after my roommate falls asleep.
Some people think I'm "stealing" pens all over campus. It's more like The Borrowers. Besides, I give out just as many pens as I appropriate; last week I gave out 5 pens, and made 5 new friends.
"Oh A.J., why don't you just buy a pencil box and keep lots of pens in it?" Yeah, that's a great idea. I can put it in my cubby right next to my Buzz Lightyear knapsack and my crustless peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
This is fair warning to anyone who gives me a pen: don't expect it back, ever. Chances are that I am going to lose it, so especially do not approach me an hour later and say, "Hey, remember that pen I gave you, can I get that back?" Nope. No you can't. I already gave it to someone else.
-A.J. Warren
Counterpoint: Do I Look Like I'm Made of Pens?
Yes, I want my pen back. Do I look like I'm made of pens? Perhaps I misheard you. Did you ask if you could own my pen? No. You asked to borrow it, and now you want to keep it.
I'm supposed to believe you meant you wanted to borrow it until the next class meeting. So now I'm depending on you - the guy who can't even manage to keep himself in pens - to hold on to my pen until next Tuesday, bring it to class, and possess enough foresight to bring another pen for yourself. Because no, it doesn't count if you bring my pen to class next Tuesday only to use it yourself.
Oh, you have other classes today? Seeing as you're the guy who didn't bother to bring a pen, I'm going to go ahead and venture that the rest of your course load this semester consists of Russian Lit., Intro to Acting and Directing, and an S/NC AmCiv seminar. So how many more notes are you really going to take?
I'm looking at your notebook right now. You've written down three rhetorical questions posed by the professor and filled the rest of the page with what looks to be your own personal coat of arms. No, "How can we ever really 'know' anything?" does not count as a note, and no, I don't want to know why you feel a yin-yang and a hookah represent your personality.
You're right; I do still have two extra pens. But I'd like to keep it that way, which I can't if I keep giving out pens to douche bags like you. This isn't pen welfare. I know you need this pen more than I do right now, but I don't care. Is this some sort of pen Communism?
Look, I'd like to help you out. I really would. But I can't set that precedent, because then that marginal member of my first-year unit next to you and the girl in the next row I made the mistake of talking to in the quesadilla line one time will also decide they are on pen-taking terms with me. And then I would be the guy without a pen.
Just give me my fucking pen back.
-Ben Schreckinger
