At work yesterday, I was marking down some stemware. There were these very tall, dramatic wine glasses and they were coated with dust. It was the wineglass that I dropped my first week of work: clumsy new girl, me, backed into a rack of fragiles and one of them fell. I can still see it, in slow motion, falling from the top. But the glasses are tempered in 3 places, and it bounced once it hid the floor. I was saved from humiliation.
I thought about buying one for nostalgic reasons. It is a funny story to tell, especially when you are holding the big delicate glass, but I try to be careful about buying things at work because I am bored or feel I want something to keep a memory. I lifted the glass towards my lips in a mock sip. If the glass felt comfortable, I might consider buying it.
Instead of red wine notes, I got a nose full of dust. I was not even inhaling. Suddenly the whole situation felt clumsy and cheap and I felt that I had been trying to sell the glass to myself. If I had one glass that was simply a story prop, that would be quite a boring story after awhile. And if I spent an hour's wages on a piece of stemware, it would make that glass too precious. My life does not need complicated stemware.
I hate the smell of dust.