The Fanny Pack

While waiting in line, I saw a man in front of me saunter up to the cashier. He was wearing casual jeans and a t-shirt, looking very normal.

And THEN he reached into his black fanny pack for his wallet.

Mind you, this man was not on vacation in Europe and needed room for a camera and a passport.
This man was not at Disneyland.
This man was not a forty year old mother with two toddlers.

No. This was a man RENTING A MOVIE AT BLOCKBUSTER.

In my must study all the time, Bar only few weeks away state of mind, this was hilarious. My eyes started to water. I tried to hold in my laughter. I tried to divert my eyes and then I saw the lady behind me was laughing too. Oh, it was just too much. There is nothing more beautiful than a middle aged man with a fanny pack who opens the second zipper to get out a coupon in a self-confident, yes, I have a purse around my waist kind of way.

But that's not all. After he paid and zipped upon his leatherette fanny pack, he walked to what I thought would be a mini van. But it wasn't. Instead it was a new, nice looking truck.
Lesson: Never judge a man by his car (or me by my Kia).

* God, or fanny pack man, please don't hate me. I know I wear pajamas to the store and sometimes I forget to look in the mirror and black bean nachos from last night's dinner are somehow on the front of my shirt. But really. This is just too good.