Money clips
WHAT kind of man prefers a money clip over a wallet?
I’ve been pondering this since my faith in mankind took a battering at the weekend when I saw some Miami Vice knock-off buy drinks at my local bar with a wad of notes held together by a money clip.
Spider-Man/Peter Parker says that with great power comes great responsibility. So too does wielding a money clip any place that’s not a bank or somewhere that requires you to hand over large sums of cash – you have the responsibility to look like a complete tool.
Our smooth operator certainly knew the rules. Long, slicked-back hair? Check. Colourful shirt, unbuttoned enough to expose a generous portion of chest? Check. That hard-worked air of nonchalance as he stands there with a wad that I’m pretty sure eclipses my entire bank balance? Double check. As my colleague Sarah pointed out, all that was missing was a Bluetooth ear piece so he could conference call his equally successful buddies.
So there stands Mr Vice and his girlfriend waving his money while the rest of us are scrabbling for change.
If I become rich I promise to at least put in some effort.
I’d be an eccentric wealthy person. Maybe I’d be carried round on a throne by a bunch of lackeys and hangers-on like Persian king Xerxes in the film 300? Or possibly I could use my money to have my limbs replaced with some cool robot appendages like the Bionic Man?
If you’re going to flaunt your wealth go the whole hog, right? Way more memorable.
Perhaps one day, but ‘til then I’ll carry on scrabbling round for change in the pockets of my tatty jeans, and not a money clip in sight.