I glance down at my oversized wallet that she's appraising with the look of a mother about to scold her daughter for chewing with her mouth open.
"What's wrong with it?" I ask as I shove my credit card back into one of the 17 different slots for cards.
She inhales slowly as though she doesn't even know where to begin. I can see the mental list of offenses she's ticking off in her head as she continues to observe the graying pink leather with a stern eye. I instinctively cover the wallet with a protective hand.
"Don't tell me you took that... thing out on your date!" She finally exhales as she tucks her steamlined black power wallet back into her bag.
I pause, considering.
"What's wrong with it?" I ask again, telling myself that my wallet couldn't possibly be the reason why a guy wouldn't call me. Could it?
"It's huuuuuge!" She shrieks before I have time to guard myself for her response.
"What are all those cards?!" She continues, jutting an accusatory finger across the table.
I rattle down the rows, "Err... my Blockbuster card, my CVS card, an expired Banana Republic credit card, my BevMo club card, a Bed Bath & Beyond gift card..."
"WHY DO YOU NEED A BED, BATH & BEYOND GIFT CARD?" To her this is a far graver offense than having a Blockbuster card after the year 1995.
"I don't know..." I respond sheepishly, suddenly wondering if it's weird that I have a Sprinkles Cupcake gift card and Native Foods club card in there also.
"That's it, I'm getting you a new wallet," She declares with finality. "Don't take that thing out anymore."
I think she's half-joking until the next week when I get an email from her asking when I'm free. She's bought me a new "summer wallet" and needs to give it to me immediately so I can cease carrying around the granny panties of all billfolds. The reason why I must still be single (more on that later).
"Now go clean out all those receipts and candy wrappers and stray quarters," She instructs as she slips the slim black Barney's New York box into my outstretched hand. "NO BED BATH & BEYOND GIFT CARD!"
"But what if I need to buy a new shower curtain?" I protest, momentarily paralyzed by the thought.
She shoots me a warning look, her lips poised in a tight knot. I half expect her to start counting to 10 before punishing me with a time out.
Shamed into silence, I nod obediently, and peel back the tissue paper to reveal the grown-up wallet that she's convinced will change my relationship status on Facebook. It's an electric shade of pink with a polka-dot lining, and contains only 8 slots for cards. Streamlined and efficient. Practical with personality.
If this works out, I may let her overhaul my OkCupid dating profile next.