Patent Pending

Six months in Scotland already! Unbelievable. Six months ago I didn’t know there was such a thing as a Chocolate Hob Nob.

I wrote the following late one night, the first week we arrived in Edinburgh. The entry just curled up in a musty corner of the hard drive and hid over the summer. It’s a completely unedited sprawling mess, but I decided to post it anyway, just to preserve that wild panicky overwhelmed holy shit energy of the time.

Recently I was wandering through a website called Should Exist, where people can submit their ideas for inventions that don’t exist but really should. As a naive traveller, I’ve figured out a couple of inventions that don’t exist but I bloody wish they did.

After four different flights to get here with long stretchy stopovers, my wallet was choked with four different currencies. Jet lag and chronic clumsiness turned me into a wreck every time I had to buy something. Every time a shopkeeper would bark “5 euro!” or “six dollar!” I would look down at my wallet and feel my stomach drop. All the foreign shapes and colours would blur into one big metally mess, leading me to bleat, “Sorry!” and trembly-hand over the wrong thing every time.

What I propose is some sort of Smart Wallet, so when the shopkeeper says “50 roubles!” or “30 bazillion yen!”, the wallet would understand and the correct amount of money would rise up into your hand, perhaps presented on a nice silver platter and a note that says, There you go, dickhead. All you the weary traveller would have to do it hand it over. No more embarrassing fumbling of coins! No more, “I’m new in town and still trying to get used to your weirdo money.”

How many bloody coats does one NEED in this country? It’s supposedly spring in Scotland, but you couldn’t survive without a coat. so a typical afternoon wandering in and out of shops in princes street means having to take your coat off once you leave the breeze outside and get blasted by the overheated shops. so i am forever tangled up in my coat, swearing and fidgeting, trying to wrestle handbag straps and shopping bags and baskets and sunglasses. and then when you leave you have go through all that in reverse.

If only your coat could somehow be built-in to the human body. Attached to your back and with a press of a button, it would peel away from your body and disappear like retracting a seat belt. oh how tidy this would be! Press it again and ZAP! It shoots out and curls around your body again and off you go. Being in Edinburgh, I’d also go for the optional umbrella attachment, in which a brolly pops up from the top of my head and unfurls at the first sign of rain.

Last week living in the youth hostel, i was intrigued by those seasoned backpacker types. these are the ones who are cocky and chat up all the skanky blonde barmaids over a cheap gin. they’ve walked barefoot though the Himalayas, blindfolded. and backwards. they Did Europe on 3 pence a day. They’ve slept with six Russian women at the same time. they have artful stubble and smell like molten gym socks.

at first i thought they were looking down at me but really they weren’t looking at all. they sit on the stairs in the hostel and block your way and carry on their conversations without so much a glance. i feel so awkward and meek, so far from home… i’m scared of their confidence… it’s like they’re just pissing all over a map of the world.

there needs to be an invention for those days when you’re wondering why you left somewhere where everyone thought your jokes were funny, all the familiar places and faces and furniture are gone. nobody knows anything about you, there’s no history, all you have is that first impression. there needs to be an invention, a nasty hurty injection, a pill you can swallow, one that feels like home, like comfort, that lets you know you’ll be okay sport, that this mood will pass and it’s okay to be shitscared and you’ll feel better in the morning.

Very late at night is the only time when things make sense. It happens in that sneaky sliver of time between awake and asleep.. a blend of perfect clarity and fuzziness. In that moment all these new experiences that seemed overwhelming in daylight suddenly make sense. they arrange themselves into into nicely structured stories. The mind churns out punchlines that zing, dialogue that crackles. But the body is so very tired, fading, the eyelids feel like lead. Sleep always wins the struggle, so those ideas fade from your memory like a new photo hitting the light.

There needs to be some sort of machine, it could plug into your ear and ransack the brain, a machine that transcribes those perfect words and stores them safely while you sleep. Then in the morning you could wake up, rub your eyes, say oh my, that was a strange dream about me and Ed from Radiohead, roll over, and there would be a little jar beside your bed labelled MIDNIGHT THOUGHTS. All those words you have no recollection of thinking would be there waiting for you, as trusty and tasty as homemade jam, all ready for spreading on blogs or emails back home.

About Shauna Reid

Ahoy there! Iā€™m Shauna, an author, copywriter and content mentor. I love telling stories about life and helping others to tell theirs.

Find out more about me and how we can work together – I’m now booking for February 2023.

21 thoughts on “Patent Pending

  1. TIME TRIPPLER 2003.
    72 hours in a day would be so wonderful…

    (your entry does not feel like a completely unedited sprawling mess… quite the opposite actually.) (I mean it in a really good way.)

  2. That change thing would be really, really good. I specially like the ‘there you go, dickhead’ note. Touch of class, that.

  3. i love you. i love you i love you i love you. i was searching through all my favorite blogs, hoping that someone would use the verb “to google,” and you have filled my need. now i know where to turn when looking for the most original usages of language.

    this has nothing to do with the current post, only with my frustration at my linguistics homework. thank youuu!! you rock!!

  4. Hi Shauny. This is more like the old you! But you’ve been busy living your life… that doesn’t mean reporting it. Your reports of Iceland were brilliant, and I look forward to more of you Kiltland Adventures. Just because I’m not posting regularly doesn’t mean I’m not reading–I’ve had a busy couple of months myself, boring to anyone reading this but important to me!
    See ya later, ooroo, and other aussieism, etc,
    From the Scotland of the south,

  5. When I was first backpacking I was a little intimidated by the seasoned travellers who could switch into different languages everytime someone new entered the lounge. How I envied them! (And still do!)

  6. I lived in London last year and did the hostel thing a few times. I understand what you mean about those intimidating backpackers. “Yeah, I just got back from South Africa, and before that it was Thailand. I thought I’d come hang out in England for a while, just to take a break, before heading over to Argentina.” And sometimes they’re just sixteen or seventeen years old! Makes me feel like the laziest person on earth. Anyway, love your lovely blog. šŸ™‚ Good luck!

  7. I want the last device, very badly. I always resolve to get up and switch on the light, but I never do.

    I think you’re NOT like your “old self,” and I’m glad.

    Also, googled around to find the new glasses and I couldn’t…which is a good sign I guess.

  8. Great inventions. Create, patent, and the people will come. The people will come.

    After imbibing the other night, I discovered I could really do with some kind of Punchline Preserver for my jokes.

    I get halfway through, the joke dribbles off, *I* start dribbling on to the table, and the blank looks begin. I need a little pre-programmed device to chime in right about then and save the day for me.

    If you see one for sale over there, get it for me. I figure the Europeans would go for zany, fruity inventions like that.

  9. Darn it, I was going to come up with a go-go gadget line!

    I love ths sprawling entry, Shauners. Did you find the proton pill that makes you feel less homesick?

    I’m incredibly intimidated by backpackers and backpacker-types, with their easy breezy devilmaycare attitudes. I wish I could be more like that, when I was traipsing around Bangkok in pointy-toed red shoes, since I thought reef sandals were too skanky-ass to wear (that changed after 3 days).

  10. can see those artful stubble bundles telling their russian barefoot himalyan tales – & they’re probably all scared too, just going out of their ways to look unscared.

    loved this entry, it’s been far too long since I last dropped by.

    may you find equivalents of australian madness on every corner.

  11. I love your midnight thought decoder concept. And I am proud I made it to your current obsession honours !! :-))

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