[ WP ] Whatever you may need at a given moment appears in your pocket , could be money , a ticket , a condom ... but today , when you were at the grocery store , instead of the money you where expecting you got a gun .

One year ago I bought a sweater at a yard sale. I do n't normally buy clothing at yard sales, but it was cheap. And I liked the color. Plus it was my size and that never happens. I also found a pretty sweet road bike but it was too expensive. And it was n't my size anyway. 
 
 The sweater was like a teal green. A full zip hoody. It was more sage colored now. And it currently has a handgun in the left pocket. It's not mine. 
 
 I normally make a habit out of putting everything I need in that pocket. Then before I leave my apartment, I distribute my items to other pockets appropriately. Keys in right, phone in left jeans, lighter in my right jeans, wallet in back right, my cigarette case in my back left. It's systematic, and I've been doing it since middle school. 
 
 So when I started wearing the sweater I started getting things mixed up. I'd reach for my cigarettes, and they would n't be there. But I'd find my lighter and my cigs in the pocket. `` Whaaaaaat? Crazy.'' That's how it started. 
 
 By the next summer I could n't go anywhere without the sweater. I thought it was lucky. One time I locked myself out of my house. I peeked and saw my keys on the table through my window. I had to climb up to my bedroom window and crawl in. And then when I put them in the pocket I already have my door key there. It was n't on my key ring. It was already in the pocket. `` Damn, when did I do that?'' Like magic. 
 
 This other time I was downtown and lost my wallet in a bar somewhere. And when I tried to enter my favorite bar, my ID was in the pocket. And when I explained to my friends I could n't buy drinks cuz I was broke i found a fresh fifty in the pocket. `` How? I do n't know. Get me a beer. This is messing me up man.'' It was a good thing too, I totes ended up going home with someone. And we end up dating for like six months. That night I find one my condoms from home in the pocket. Like RIGHT when I needed it. 
 
 It started get bad though. If I did n't have the sweater, I'd get home and find all my stuff in the pocket. I thought my girlfriend was pranking me. So I confront her, right? `` Hey, we got ta talk...'' BAM. She was cheating on me. I did n't even ask about the pocket. We'd only been going for about six months. She just breaks down and confessed. Then I find THE BREAKUP LETTERS WE WROTE TO EACH OTHER. In the pocket. It was a messed up conversation, cuz I liked her a lot. Loved? Yeah. She was great. 
 
 But the POCKET, MAN! I kinda knew she was n't honest. And she did n't even give me a birthday present-AH! Who cares?? I wanted to tell her about the pocket! 
 
 That was literally yesterday actually. That sucked. But it just got way worse. 
 
 She ended up taking a buncha her stuff and leaving while she screamed at me. But she took the sweater. I did n't notice cuz while she packed her things, I was getting drunk. One of my buddies showed up and we watched some stand up on Netflix. We drank ourselves to sleep and he offered to drive us to Walmart this morning. 
 
 I am pretty hungover. And when I remembered I did n't have the sweater... Then I saw her. She was wearing it. SHE WAS WEARING IT. And she was was holding another guy's hand. They looked so happy. I nudged my buddy, Eric. `` Dude.'' 
 
 `` Dude is n't that your sweater-what? Who the hell is that asshole? Damn, Sammy's such a-'' 
 `` Yeah fuck that.'' I cut him off and start walking at her. 
 
 `` HEY!'' I yelled at her from the self checkouts. She was walking towards the pharmacy stuff. When she saw me she flipped me off. Then she reaches into the pocket... 
 
 And she screamed. Just a girly little yelp thing. But the dude she's with sees me now. And I swear I'm gon na kill this guy when he puts his hands up and he's like way bigger then me. Like this guy is a gym rat and he's gon na kick my ass. 
 
 Eric is a bro. I can hear him jog up next to me and he whispered, `` Dude, he's big. What's goin on?'' He starts to take off his jacket and I look at him, `` I just need that sweater.'' 
 
 `` A GUN!'' Sammy is freaking out. She rips the sweater off and drops it. The big guy crouches a bit and starts pointing at me, `` He's got a gun!'' 
 
 I stop and Eric grabs my shoulder, `` WHOA man. You got a gun?'' Sammy grabs her asshole and drags him back toward the exit doors. I start looking behind me and there are people running away and halfway screaming. Hushed yelling really, `` A GUN, SOMEONE HAS A GUN.'' 
 
 `` Dude, no. I do n't.'' I walked passed Eric and get to my sweater. Eric looks around again and says we should leave. 
 
 I put my sweater on and I feel it in the pocket. A gun, for sure. I can feel my face go pale. Eric can see it too. My face, and then gun through the pocket. He steps back and puts his hands up neutrally to his waist, between us. 
 
 `` Dude... What's goin on man?'' Eric keeps walking backward and his eyes are bulging out. 
 
 Off at the other end of the store I can see a manager jogging towards us. To the right I can see Sammy and the other guy gesturing outside the glass doors. I ca n't go to jail I ca n't go to jail I ca n't go to jail... 
 
 I tell Eric, `` Run, man.'' And I start toward the doors. Eric pushes me down and sprints away. Like, WTF?? 
 
 I have no idea what I'm doing, but I pull the gun out... 
 
 And then I hear glass breaking. From the pharmacy behind me to the right. I almost drop the gun it scared me so much. I take a step back, now holding the gun with both hands. It feels good. Like I have an authority now. 
 
 I get a good look at as I lightly walk passed the homeopathic aisle. It's a revolver. Black metal, a real wooden handle. It's heavy and... empty. There's no bullets. 
 
 `` Give me the good stuff, it's right there, ma'am.'' What? Someone is robbing the Walmart? `` This guy's a dumbass. He's wearing sweat pants, a Patriots jacket, and waving around a Glock looking pistol. And then he sees me. 
 
 He grabs at the boxes the pharmacist put on the counter and he starts crying. Like instantly. Tears, his nose is running. He falls to his knees and tosses his gun away. 
 
 I did n't even point the revolver at him. I did n't have to. I look back at the blue vests running at me and suddenly they trust me. I can see the relief in their eyes as the man on his knees comes into their view. 
 
 I lowered the revolver. And then I feel something in my pocket. I find a wallet. It says `` Bad Motha Fucka'' on it. And it had a fake ass badge inside. Behind that was a fake ass license to `` Do whatever I want''. 
 
 Anyway that was about five minutes ago. I'm now explaining things to Eric. Like everything. He does n't believe anything I'm saying. 
 
 `` Look, I just find stuff in here.'' And I pull out three bullets. And a picture of a little girl.
