Ah, my trusty fanny pack. People always give me grief about it, but I don’t care. It’s the most practical piece of clothing I own, and it’s got a lot of sentimental value too. I remember when I first started wearing it to the steel mill, all the guys would give me crap about it. But I showed them - I wore it every day for a year straight, and I never had to worry about my wallet or phone getting stolen. It’s like a badge of honor, really.
But what really gets my blood pumping is when I’m out at the bar, and some young punk comes up to me and starts giving me lip about my fanny pack. I just smile and say, 'Hey kid, you know what they say: ‘you can’t have too much of a good thing.’ And then I pull out my beer and take a long swig, just to show 'em who’s boss. It’s a real turn-on, let me tell you.
Of course, there are some people who think I’m a little too old for this sort of thing. My wife, for instance, always says I’m embarrassing her in public. But I just tell her, ‘Hey, honey, you’re just jealous because you know I’m still the man I was in my 20s.’ And then I wink at her and give her a little squeeze on the butt. She can’t help but laugh, and that’s all that matters.
>Soulkyn