Reasons I’m Using a Cane That Definitely Aren’t Because I Slipped While Rushing to Get Food

I’m a pimp.

I’m Puttin' on the Ritz.

I age backwards, so I'm actually 87-years-old and it’s perfectly normal to be using one. Expected, really.

I’m an old witch and this cane doubles as a wand that shoots fire out of the stump or sends tremors through the earth at a single tap. Yeah I know it's cool, so don't cross me.

I’m a dapper gentleman with a song in my heart, a skip in my step, and, now, an axis point to jump and click my heels together.

I grabbed it as I ran out the door, thinking it was an umbrella.

It’s the grand re-opening of my chocolate factory and I want to psych-out the crowd by pretending to be ill, but I’m in, like, stunt-level shape. You think you have me figured out? You. Don't.

It’s not a cane, it’s a very long, wooden finger that I grew from eating too many beets and healing my Root Chakra.

It’s an eco-friendly, reusable straw for reeeeally Big Gulps. It’s a fallen branch that I moved off the road, took a liking to, then sculpted and sanded down in an erotic montage like the Ghost pottery scene.

I am wise. No further explanation is necessary.

I want to stop chatter and turn heads as I walk slowly, confidently, and unexpectedly into a gala, funeral, or courtroom.

I am a silent film star and this prop accentuates my skills in physical comedy. The cane is an extension of myself. I am a master of my craft.

I have low vision and you are in my way.

I am a Steam Punk hipster and this custom-soldered handle cost me $800 and many sexual partners.

I am a shepherd and this is my crook—not in a Biblical sense, though I do have six wives (two are sheep) (one is shorn).

I am rich. No further explanation is necessary.

It could be a sword in a sheath, you don't know.

It’s made of peppermint candy. Well, not actually. It’s plastic that’s painted red and white. I just won it at a fair and now I have to carry it around because I don’t want to throw it away, our landfills are full enough. I’ll incorporate it into my Christmas decorations somehow. I mean, mine are classy and this is pretty tacky, but who knows… maybe I can hang it on the bathroom door handle or something? Will it get in the way? Do you want it?

It's kind of weird that you're asking. No, seriously. Can I just go about my business, with my cane—yes, cane, there I said it—and not be given the third-degree about why or how it came into my possession? All I'm going to say as I walk away—because it's going to take me a second to leave and it might be less awkward if I keep talking—is that you should wear boots with grip in the wintertime, not cute little sneakers. And make sure to snack frequently throughout the day, particularly in the late morning so that you're not ravenous by the time lunch rolls around and hightailing it around the city to get your hands on a protein bowl. Okay, good day, sir. I SAID GOOD DAY, SIR!

...Clomp.................Clomp.................

Clomp................. Take a photo, it’ll last longer!