A while back, say three and a half years ago when I was a wee freshman in college...(Woah I am getting old.)...I developed a mini love interest for a man I saw across the room at my first day at SUU orientation...which they now call "Flight School". Some clever play on words about earning your "Thunderbird Wings"...LBALLG...which is code for Lame.
Anyways as I was saying before I interrupted myself, on my very first visit to the SUU campus, the Sharwan Smith Center Rotunda to be specific, I laid my eyes on a young man that for some reason struck my fancy. For whatever reason, he caught my attention and I developed a slight fascination with him.
He is a baseball player for the mighty SUU T-Birds and can often be spotted wearing one of these babies:
Yeah. I fell for a guy wearing a fanny-pack.
When I told my friends of this new found captivation I had for this gentleman, their responses were immediate and predictable..."You mean the guy who wears the fanny-pack?" Of course they followed with comments like,
"Does he know it is neither 1982 nor a family vacation to Disney World?"
and
"He is wearing a backpack, carrying a duffle bag AND wearing a fanny-pack....necessary?"
Now I am not one to judge ones luggage(?) needs. He seemed a busy man and I am sure he had a lot to carry and had a reason for the excess baggage. But nonetheless, my friends laughed at my "crush".
Although his fashion sense surely left something to be desired, I was irrevocably attracted to him...and the fanny-pack. Only a confident man can pull off such a faux-pas.
As the year progressed, I caught a glimpse of him a few times a week. Sometimes walking to class, sometimes eating lunch in the rotunda...it became a game. But because I had never actually met the man, nor did I know his name, I just fondly referred to him as "Fannypack". One word. His name was just Fannypack.
Periodically I would get texts that said things like,
"Fannypack sighting. Businesss Quad 1:32 pm"
or
"Hey. Have you seen Fannypack's new haircut?...Hideous."
It became sort of a game to spot this guy I had never met nor would ever formally meet.
One day sophomore year, my car was parked next to his in the PE student parking lot...
As he was getting out of his car, I was getting into mine.
He commented on the weather and how he wished it would warm up. He said he was from Hawaii and that sometimes he wonders why the heck he moved to the frigid cold of Utah....I smiled and giggled along. Then I got in my car and drove away.
The years have passed and I have since learned his actual name. I still just call him Fannypack. I like it more than his real name...It's not a very attractive name.
Today I was walking through the Rotunda in the student center and I saw out of the corner of my eye (in my peripherals), a man wearing one of these:
Anyways as I was saying before I interrupted myself, on my very first visit to the SUU campus, the Sharwan Smith Center Rotunda to be specific, I laid my eyes on a young man that for some reason struck my fancy. For whatever reason, he caught my attention and I developed a slight fascination with him.
He is a baseball player for the mighty SUU T-Birds and can often be spotted wearing one of these babies:
Yeah. I fell for a guy wearing a fanny-pack.
When I told my friends of this new found captivation I had for this gentleman, their responses were immediate and predictable..."You mean the guy who wears the fanny-pack?" Of course they followed with comments like,
"Does he know it is neither 1982 nor a family vacation to Disney World?"
and
"He is wearing a backpack, carrying a duffle bag AND wearing a fanny-pack....necessary?"
Now I am not one to judge ones luggage(?) needs. He seemed a busy man and I am sure he had a lot to carry and had a reason for the excess baggage. But nonetheless, my friends laughed at my "crush".
Although his fashion sense surely left something to be desired, I was irrevocably attracted to him...and the fanny-pack. Only a confident man can pull off such a faux-pas.
As the year progressed, I caught a glimpse of him a few times a week. Sometimes walking to class, sometimes eating lunch in the rotunda...it became a game. But because I had never actually met the man, nor did I know his name, I just fondly referred to him as "Fannypack". One word. His name was just Fannypack.
Periodically I would get texts that said things like,
"Fannypack sighting. Businesss Quad 1:32 pm"
or
"Hey. Have you seen Fannypack's new haircut?...Hideous."
It became sort of a game to spot this guy I had never met nor would ever formally meet.
One day sophomore year, my car was parked next to his in the PE student parking lot...
As he was getting out of his car, I was getting into mine.
He commented on the weather and how he wished it would warm up. He said he was from Hawaii and that sometimes he wonders why the heck he moved to the frigid cold of Utah....I smiled and giggled along. Then I got in my car and drove away.
The years have passed and I have since learned his actual name. I still just call him Fannypack. I like it more than his real name...It's not a very attractive name.
Today I was walking through the Rotunda in the student center and I saw out of the corner of my eye (in my peripherals), a man wearing one of these:
After some research, I found out these chains are called "Figaro Chains". So. Hot...Not.
Upon closer inspection, I noticed the head sitting just above the bling-clad neck. In the flesh.
Mr. Fannypack himself.
As I left the student center I laughed to myself. And a little bit out loud too. Just quietly.
I laughed because at one time I would have defended his fashion choice with a quick, "Maybe he's in the Maffia." Or a simple, "It was probably given to him by his great grandfather and he wears it in his memory."
But times have changed. I have changed. There was no defending that.
So here's to my years spent under the trance of a belt with a purse attached.
Good riddance.
It's time to find a new love.
Maybe a man with a love of bolo ties or parachute pants.
Or both.
Upon closer inspection, I noticed the head sitting just above the bling-clad neck. In the flesh.
Mr. Fannypack himself.
As I left the student center I laughed to myself. And a little bit out loud too. Just quietly.
I laughed because at one time I would have defended his fashion choice with a quick, "Maybe he's in the Maffia." Or a simple, "It was probably given to him by his great grandfather and he wears it in his memory."
But times have changed. I have changed. There was no defending that.
So here's to my years spent under the trance of a belt with a purse attached.
Good riddance.
It's time to find a new love.
Maybe a man with a love of bolo ties or parachute pants.
Or both.
