by Will Bailey
It’s about that time. I’m not talking about stepping onto an ice flow or boarding a spaceship on a one way trip to blow up an asteroid, I’m talking about autumn. Or, as it is known around my neck of the house, “Jacket Season.” There’s something strange about wearing a jacket after months of hanging loose in jorts and t-shirts. Wait, did I say jorts? I’m pretty sure I meant to say shorts. Let’s call it a happy accident and move on, shall we? Anyway, along comes the cool, crisp fall air, and, before you know it, you’re heading out into the world wearing an extra layer of animal pelt emulator. And then there’s the additional acclimation period of getting used to all those extra pockets! From late May to early September I’ve been waddling into work with my wallet, keys, phone, emergency rubber chicken and a host of other necessities jammed into my pants pockets. It has really been throwing off my equilibrium. Thankfully, with the onset of Jacket Season, I now have an extra person’s worth of pockets hanging from my shoulders. It’s almost as if I have my own personal butler who rides piggy-back and keeps track of all my belongings. Then again, none of this would be an issue if stupid stubborn society would finally cave and let me carry around a big ol’ purse. For now, I’ll have to settle for this musty jacket. Hey, there’s a peppermint in the breast pocket! Oh, it’s just old gum. Gross.