The other day I walked in to a meeting room and I found a pen.
Initially I looked at it and thought ‘hmm, not as nice as my pen’, and I gave it the short shrift reserved for the free pens you get from a bank or a betting shop.
But my mind wandered during the proceeding meeting, and when I looked down at my hands, I found I had picked up this stray pen.
I did the only thing any self-respecting man would do while holding a pen that is not my own: I clicked the button on top and wrote out ‘hello, my name is…’ all over my notes.
And you know what? I instantly realised that I owed this pen an apology.
The rubbery grip was just nice to hold, the ball had a nice smooth action across the page, and there wasn’t any build-up of ink on the nib, which for me sums up everything you could possibly need in a good solid pen. It was maybe a little lighter than I would normally go for, but I think I’d get used to that.
I’d also never heard of Zebra pens before, which no doubt added to my original outright dismissal.
Now I’ve looked them up, and it turns out they are Japanese, they have been around since 1897 and their original trademark used a Zebra looking backwards to ‘indicate that the knowledge accumulated in the past is being applied to make progress in new fields’.
Now, always one for a bit of a fun back story, that puts Zebra right up there for me.
All I have to do is resolve my internal conundrum. Do I email the company and find out who lost their pen, or do I keep quiet and revel in my find?
Surely if they really loved this pen, they would have come back for it, no?
Pens are lost and found. A lot of things happen around #Euroffice. Read on: