I went though this huge bin of pens and pencils. There were some gluesticks too, some crayons, colored pencils, markers, highlighters, a razor thing, and an exactoknife. Two dirty pennies. Lint.
Someone must have donated this bin many years ago. All the pens were dry except two. And those two were skippy.
I gathered about 25 dry pens that I thought could take a refill. The retractable pens.
And yesterday we went to the office supply store. I searched for refills among all the pens. There were none. I was like, well, I guess this is old fashioned. I guess I have to look online.
Then Ming showed me the refills. They were behind me in a aisle on small spinny racks.
I took apart the pens I thought most likely to have refills for sale. I read the brand and other specifications. Yes, there were refills. But they were expensive.
Many years ago I was mildly obsessed with these retractable Parker pens. I kept one in my pocket at all times. When I quit smoking. This was when I was around 24.
It was hard to tell how much the refills really cost because the refill racks were messy. I didn’t trust the right thing was under the right price.
But in the end I bought four refills. I took a picture this morning after I fixed them. I gave Ming the one with print because it’s Union Pacific and he likes trains.
It feels like a good deed, to keep a pen out of the landfill, but maybe it’s just nostalgia.
