A Story a Staple

I was walking to work one day and was waiting at one of the many crosswalks I stand at on a daily basis.
I casually put my hand on the pole and felt a plethora of bumps under my hand.

Naturally, I jumped back about two feet thinking an army of bugs was coming to get me.
I looked around to make sure no one saw.

At second glance, I realized they were staples.

Hundreds and hundreds of staples. 

They're on almost every wooden pole in Nashville, but never have I looked closely at it.
Why would I?

Once I did, my gears started to turn (that's a really silly saying, it suggests I am a machine, which I am the farthest things from).

Each one of these staples held up a flier. Maybe it was announcing a concert, a symphony, a game, or a sale. Maybe it was a lost dog, cat, or parakeet. Maybe the flier was a person looking for somewhere to live, or a person looking for someone to live with.
Every staple once held a story that someone wanted people to know about. That's why it hung on a pole for all to see. The story isn't still there, but the staple is. It's the residue from the concert, lost dog, or homeless student.

I wonder how the concert did. Did the flier really help that apartment vacancy get filled? What about the restaurant opening, did they find a new server?
I'll never know, but there is a staple to tell us there was something.

I feel like right now in my life, I haven't even put my flier up yet, I don't have anything so important that the whole world needs to know (ironic from the girl keeping a blog?)
My goal is to figure out what my flier would say, but I once I do hang it up, I better make it worth it while it's there, because eventually all there will be left of it is a staple.

Hopefully, my staple has a cool story behind it.