ALL / Dating

FannyPack

THE MEET

Fannypack and I met at a bar in New York’s meat-packing district in early 2010 and started dating. He is a high frequency trader and after a particularly devastating transaction said he needed to escape for a few days, so he booked us a weekend in the Caribbean. Going away with someone for the first time is like lifting the curtain on a production and seeing what goes on behind the scenes. Welcome to the show.

THE FIRST TRAVEL DATE

Setting the Stage: When the robot overlords created me, they forgot to put in the chips for patience and moderation. When I read the book Free, Perfect, Now, I wondered why it wasn’t called, “Free, Perfect, Now, and MORE.” FannyPack on the other hand is more pensive and self-restricting than Steve Jobs. You bibliophiles guessed it – FannyPack and I are Foils.

Act I: We got to the airport around 7AM and I said that I needed a Venti coffee immediately. He raised his eyebrows and informed me that this would be a good time to start restricting liquids so that we wouldn’t have use the airplane bathroom. I responded by walking to Starbucks because anyone who speaks to me before I’ve had my coffee just sounds like Charlie Brown’s teacher. Once we boarded the airplane, he pulled out his fanny pack, that was loaded with crumpled cash, expired Advil, a loose black Amex, and old Kleenex. This time, I raised my eyebrows and informed him that this would be a good time to put that sh!t away. He responded by putting on an eyemask. So far the weekend was going swimmingly.

Act II: Once on the island, Fannypack said we would visit a few hotels to find the best spot because we didn’t want to make any rash decisions – you know, like booking a hotel in advance. When we walked out to the cab line, FannyPack tried negotiating a new fare to “the place where the hotels are.” And just like that, the sand ran out of my hourglass. My blood sugar hit zero. I stamped my foot. I turned coat, stood next to the cab driver, and argued on his team for the higher fare. When the debate ended, he drove us to the first hotel, but since this was spring break season they had no vacancy. Surprisingly, the cab didn’t wait for us out front like we agreed. Thus we began our personal Oregon trail – dragging our roller board suitcases down a dirt road from one resort to the next before we finally found a place that would take us.

Intermission: Since we had very different vacation agendas, we ended up spending some time apart. At the all-inclusive we were staying at, I tried to consume everything in sight. I spent most of the next day drinking pitchers of sugary booze earning an intense sunburn, whereas FannyPack was intent on logging three hours in the gym and reading non-fiction. That evening, I went solo for dinner and a glass (read: bottle) of wine. FannyPack wanted to squeeze in another binge exercise sesh.

Act III: As I stumbled back to the room from dinner, I swung open the door and found that FannyPack hadn’t gone to the gym. Instead, he had been running in place for 75 minutes, wearing his fanny pack, and watching Spanish telemundo. I walked over to the mini-bar, grabbed a $684 jar of mixed nuts and crawled in bed to watch the grand finale to our vacation. Cue slow clap.

20 thoughts on “FannyPack

  1. I want so badly to meet these guys just so I can’t put a face to a pseudonym. The nicknames make me think of a lot of different things. And hilarious story as always. 🙂

  2. A man who even admits to owning a fanny pack should have (at the least) Homeland Security sicked on him!
    I was in a local watering hole in Texas back a few years ago with my wife when a fella walked in dressed to the tee’s. (maybe he was a young banker or lawyer, I don’t know) Looking around for a vacant place to sit at the bar, he spotted a stool that a cowpoke had draped his saddle bags over and asked him, “Could you place your horse purse onto the floor so I can sit down?” The cowboy yelled out at him,”Horse purse? Mister, can’t you tell that ain’t no horse purse? Why it’s a genuine leather equine fanny pack!” The place was roaring with laughter as he walked out.

  3. Sweetie,

    You do realize he is most likely your soul mate. I married mine. I’ve been on a vacation with him before where we didn’t have hotel reservations. I stomped my foot on the sidewalk while he worked out the deal. Truth be told; he is this amazing flame of light for me–so confident, so sure of himself, so “alive”. We’ve been married 21 years after dating for three and living together for five.

    Believe me, he will be the yin to your yang and make you crazy. But, you will have lived and loved well; and, that’s all anyone should want.

  4. Just last night, when we realized we couldn’t comfortably afford the new limited edition R2D2 Xbox, my wife was like “Why aren’t you a banker?” My friends replied with the old “banker wanker” statement (we’re all in the under-paid creative industry), but I think your story would’ve been a better rebuttal.

  5. Pingback: Other Peoples’ Bad Dates | Welcome to My Words!

  6. I love that he had a fanny pack. Super cool!
    And, that at an all-inclusive, he did not partake in your adventures of drinking and sunburning. (I’d always thought that was the purpose of the all-inclusive.)

  7. Heya! I’m at work browsing your blog from my new iphone 3gs!
    Just wanted to say I love reading your blog and look forward to all your posts!
    Keep up the great work!

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