The Rusted Musket

Apparently, the idea of a new wallet winds me up the same way my woman gets wound up over the idea of skinny jeans. God help me if this is truth, because I think it is. Verily, every time I pass a retailer showcasing brown leather billfolds I slow down in order to get an eyeful of that singularly glorious folded cowhide. Reality my friend, reality though, has always kept me at a safe distance. I’ve already got a good, strong, medium brown bi-fold wallet with a magnetic money retainer at its core. Alas, I can smell it, the cod fish like stench of defeat, I’m going to buy another wallet and jettison the current, perfectly suitable version, as you would an old toaster; shame on me for even thinking that…