Betrayed by an obscenely expensive writing instrument

I love the unique turquoise ink that passes for “blue” in the Mont Blanc rollerball pen world. I like it so much that I bought the entire blue rollerball refill stock of an Indianapolis jewelry store that was liquidating its Mont Blanc stuff.

But I don’t like it on my fingers and I don’t like it on my clothes.

Which is why I’m in a foul fucking mood this morning.

The Mont Blanc rollerball is a two-piece affair with a cap like a fountain pen. And the cap on mine has become increasingly loose over the years. I was sitting at my desk about an hour ago when I noticed turquoise ink stains on the inside of my left forearm. Then I noticed that they came from my forearm contacting the left breast pocket of my Travel Smith safari jacket (the sleeves were rolled up and buttoned, leaving my forearms bare). The pen and cap had separated and the ink wicked into a hideous stain at the bottom of the patch pocket.

Following Maria’s advice, I soaked the stained area in several solutions of rubbing alcohol, flushed it with cold water, hosed it down with Zout, and threw it into the washer. I suspect, however, that the stain will still be there with the spin cycle ends. And that really pisses me off because that was my favorite jacket.

And now my fingers are covered with turquoise ink stains.

It’s hard to believe a rollerball pen that lists for $375 (I got mine used on Ebay for less than $100) could malfunction like that.