The Return of the Hanky

Actually, the hanky has never left me. Okay, in a sense it has left me often, which is good in a way because it gives rise to this post.

You see, I'll take it out, dab my eyes, put it down and meander off. In my meanderings, I will frequently require the hanky again, but of course, I won't know where it is. I do this several times a day, and I weary with continually retracing my steps.

However, my mate is a lateral thinking, problem solving kinda gal, and she came to the rescue on Fathers Day (which I still refuse to apostrophize). Yup, she gifted me with more hankies and if that wasn't sublime enough, a hook to attach the hanky to my shorts ... or longs as the case may be. ↓↓



Isn't AC one heckuva lucky guy?

But wait ... there's more. ↓↓



Did you see it? Of course not: a little sleight of hand and it's in my pocket but still attached to the hook. Perfect, as the youth say, even for the most mundane things, such as ordering a cheeseburger.

But wait ... there's still more. ↓↓



Tricky, eh? Although it's difficult to see in this photo, it's also attached to a retractable thingamabobbie. Let the hanky go, and it snaps back to my side ... and goes with me evry lovin step that I take.

With that hanky dangling at my side, I feel fearless. Surely, I have the fastest hanky in the ... er ... east.

(For the back story, which I'm sure newcomers would hate to miss, click to see The Crying Game. And be sure not to miss AC playing the fool in Found: The Sequel.)