Absurd Challenge

I wanted a ballpoint pen for two reasons – to address an envelope and to work the Monday crossword puzzle.  John was nearby, so I said I was looking for a pen, not specifying one that would work.

“There are a bunch on the dining room table,” he said helpfully.

My eyesight wasn’t the best, or at least the connection from eye to brain wasn’t working well.  I walked around the table and finally spotted a packet with a bunch of black pens.  Taking one, I scratched on the edge of the newspaper without result.  The second pen made deeper grooves in the paper corresponding to my impatience.  The third one was also totally unresponsive.  Leaving the useless instruments on top of the package, I went to my pocketbook and withdrew one that worked a week or so ago.  Success!  I addressed the envelope and opened the Times to the puzzle. 

John strolled by and picked up one of the non-writing pens.  I thought I ought to tell him that they didn’t work.  He was already poised to scratch when I finished my sentence.  What is it about defunct ballpoint pens that one is compelled to make an attempt to conquer them?  I worked on three, and after my warning, John was satisfied with testing one.  He said he’d found this bunch when he emptied one of the drawers in the buffet.  He was more ready to write them off than I was.  He thought he’d found a treasure trove, but they must have dried up.  Still in battle mode, I offered to look up remedies.  The tablet was handy, so I Googled a question, “How do you make a ballpoint pen work?”

I began reading some of the answers as John finished his writing task using a functioning pen.  You can hold a pen under cold running water, soak it in warm water, or put it in a Baggie and leave it in boiling water for 3 to 5 minutes.  Rubbing alcohol might work.  Shake it like a thermometer with the point furthest away from your hand.  Apply your mouth – suck on the tip or blow on the open end, if it is available.

Now at the computer, I asked the tablet the same question to refresh my memory.  This time I must not have spoken clearly, because the first answer was, “How to perform a tracheotomy: 5 steps (with pictures) – wikiHow”.  That seemed to be overkill.  Correcting the question, I found a suggestion to rub the pen on the bottom of your shoe or write on an eraser.  You could rub the tip on an emery stick or, more dangerously, sic a lighter to the tip.  I dismissed a paragraph that suggested using a drop of nail polish remover on a wire because it warned outright that it gets messy.  The article ended with sage advice: remember to carry an extra pen with you, and don’t be afraid to buy another one.  If I were smart, I’d go down the stairs right now and throw away all 7 dried up pens before they send out another silent, compulsive challenge to ruin my day.