I went with my nephew to Subway for lunch yesterday. Subways have a distinctive smell that gets into my nostrils while I eat and seems to stay with me the rest of the day. I have been told this is the smell of the yeast in the bread.
Yesterday, however, when I returned and was sitting at my desk, I had a strong odor of onion on my person. I seemed to remember that something had dropped onto my shirt while I was eating, but I could not seem to find it. I also seemed to remember there was a damp spot on my shirt just below the pocket. I figured a piece of onion had fallen from my sandwich onto my shirt and then onto the floor.
As my work day continued, it seemed the onion smell got stronger and stronger. As I was discussing this on the phone with my good friend Aaron Russell, I reached my hand into my shirt pocket. There was the offensive little piece of onion.
“. . . Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindleth!” (James 3:5 KJV) The piece of onion in question was slender, curved, not a half-inch long, but I smelled like onion the rest of the day, even after the little offender was removed and I sprayed my shirt pocket with bathroom disinfectant.
As a matter of fact, I still smell that onion, though I have showered and put on different clothes this very morning. I think I threw it into my office trash can yesterday afternoon, and there was very little trash, so I don’t think the custodian emptied it last night. No, the little piece of onion does not seem to be in the trash can after all.
Actually, I have discovered that the scent is on my phone! I put the phone in my shirt pocket, and it stayed there for a while in my pocket right next to the offensive onion. Excuse me, Dear Reader, while I go and wash the cover of my phone.
I have returned after washing the phone case with hand soap and spraying both the case and my shirt pocket with bathroom disinfectant. Given a choice, I’d rather smell like Febreze than onion!
I remember an in-class assignment when I was a student in Lincoln Memorial University’s Ed.D. program. Each student placed the contents of either pockets or purses on a table. Then, the other students walked by and made observations of what could be determined about the individual from the contents. I remember someone determined that I must be quite important as I had so many keys.
In actuality, what that really said about me was that I have a fear of being locked out of my house or car and also harbor a phobia about throwing anything away. Right now, I know I have a key on one of my rings that is to a car I no longer own. It is useless, except for occasionally being used in absence of a screwdriver to pry objects.
No one seemed to comment on the absence of cash in my pocket. Of course, we could only look at, not touch, our classmates’ possessions. My wallet was thick, and has now become so thick that I can’t put it in my back pocket without it rubbing holes in my pants.
Unfortunately, the wallet is not filled with cash. I rarely carry money. I do have a couple of credit and insurance cards. Most everything else is meaningless, even to me. So why do I carry these cumbersome items around? I’ll call it the “key phobia”.
There is a company that has the trademark “What’s in Your Wallet?” One thing I don’t have in my wallet is the card from that company. I carried that company’s credit card for over a quarter of a century. There was suspected fraud on it, and I called to report. All went well, for a while. The representative told me that the suspected fraudulent charges would be removed and that the same account would be retained with a new number. A new card would be mailed to me.
Then I was asked for my phone number. I gave my cell number. It did not match the information the company had on file. I gave the company every phone number I could remember, and none of them matched. I was then told I would have to prove my identity by sending them a copy of my driver license. That’s when I got upset.

I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you – Nobody – too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don't tell! they'd advertise – you know!
How dreary – to be – Somebody!
How public – like a Frog –
To tell one’s name – the livelong June –
To an admiring Bog!
--Emily Dickinson

My prolonged conversation with the company’s representative pointed out that I had never had to prove my identity, and this same situation had happened a few times throughout the years. The company was never interested in me proving my identity, especially when I made purchases and paid the monthly bill. The company never questioned if I was the person actually writing the monthly checks. They were always accepted and cashed. I got even more upset when asked if I had to prove my identity to close the account. Believe it or not, I would not have to prove my identity to close the account.
I told the representative from the other side of the earth that I would simply continue to make my payments until the account balance was zero, then I would call and cancel the account. There was little concern that the company would be losing a customer who had been with them for a quarter of a century.
Just to make sure I hadn’t accessed some kind of crackpot, this exact same scenario was repeated the following month. That account balance is now zero, but I have not cancelled the account. A friend advised me against closing the account as it might adversely affect my credit.
At least there is one less card in my overstuffed wallet. Every time I see the commercial “What’s in Your Wallet?” I reply, “Not your card, sucker!”
Don’t despair for me, Dear Reader. I have another active credit card, and that company is most accommodating. They still retain a little trust in the American consumer and don’t go out of their way to make me prove my existence!
Best of luck to you as you go forth this week, Dear Reader. Watch your onions. I hope you don’t have to prove who you are and that you exist.
Here’s a little “lesser known fact” I once received in an email.

In English pubs, ale is ordered by pints and quarts. So in old England, when customers got unruly, the bartender would yell at them, “Mind your pints and quarts, and settle down.” It's where we get the phrase “mind your P's and Q's”.

ANSWER TO QUESTION OF THE WEEK # 17
What is the proper term for the act of a pharmacist suing a government official?
SUDAFED: Brought litigation against a government official.

QUESTION OF THE WEEK # 18
Why have my wife and I been awake since June 1? (See next week’s article in historicunioncounty.com for the answer.)