The cow wallet

It is a fact that people who are dating, or who are engaged, do things that are entirely out of character, in the hopes of making their object of interest think they are much better people than they really are. This perhaps explains why I, of my own free will, bought Joe a cow hair wallet when we were engaged.

It was what he wanted for his birthday, and of course I felt compelled to get it for him, even though it made me wonder what kind of person I was marrying, that he carried a wallet that looks like the side of a Holstein, and also made me wonder what kind of person I was for agreeing to buy him another one.

But I did agree, and set out on a big game hunt for a cow hair wallet. But one was nowhere to be found, and I was getting desperate after a few weeks of searching, and one day my sister and I sauntered into Neiman Marcus, which we occasionally do when we need a good laugh, and there, in a case with other exotic wallets, was a genuine cow hair wallet. Of course I knew, even without looking at the price tag, that I could sell all my worldly possessions including my house and still not be able to afford this wallet. But the salesman had already spotted us looking in the case, so we asked him to take the wallet out for us.

As expected, the wallet would take years of hard labor to work off, but we didn't want to let the salesman know that. We pretended to show great interest in it. We opened it, looked in all the little compartments, stroked the cow hair, and made appreciative little murmurs about its quality, all the while thinking desperately of a way to gracefully decline this purchase that all of us, including the salesman, knew we were not going to make.

Finally my sister said, with the air of one who has found a tiny flaw in a precious gem, "Didn't Joe say he wanted a bi-fold wallet? This one is tri-fold."

I grasped at this ticket out. "You're right," I said. "This one won't work at all." We tried our best to look both regretful and slightly disapproving as I handed the wallet back to the salesman.

I eventually did find a cow wallet that, happily, did not require the selling of all my worldly goods. That cow wallet is still with us, and often draws interested looks and comments from strangers, in much the same way PETA might show interest in a fur coat. I do not tell these people that I was the one who bought it.

Recently Joe asked what I would like for Christmas. "I think I want a wallet," I said.

"I could get you a cow wallet," he suggested.

"I appreciate the offer,"I said quickly, "but I think one cow wallet per household is enough. We wouldn't want to violate the Personal Bovine Item Limit."

He asked what kind of wallet I might want.

"I'm not sure," I said. "But maybe we could go look at Neiman Marcus."