" I Love Your Fannypack!"

The small club was dark, and the energy was contagious. It was 80s new wave dance party night, and Peter and I had been dancing for hours. The dance floor was packed. Scenesters with attitude to spare, thinking they're the shit, fall all over each other while "inventing" their cliche hipster dance moves. I was starting to fade, but Peter is a man posessed, continuing to dance even though his legs are throbbing in pain. I start scanning the crowd. The long haired guy who hasn't slowed down all night, rico suave and his female companion who probably danced at the same club back in the 80s when the songs were new, the girl with the beret who has been center stage all night with drink in hand. Tall skinny guy and his throng of wannabes. That is when I saw it. the perfect fannypack. the girl wearing it is dancing crazy. she has long straight hair, and a carona dangling from her hand, her lanky arms swaying to and fro. I point this out to peter and we want to tell her how cool it is. He dances up to her. "I love your fannypack!" nothing. She twirls, he follows. " I LOVE your FANNYPACK!" he screams in her ear. still nothing. he follows her erratic movements, and grabs her arm : "I LOVE YOUR FANNYPACK!" he shouts directly staring at her face. she brings her hand up and pounds the rest of her beer, eyes closed, still no acknowlegement of the compliment to her fannypack. Peter finally gets her attention with a thumbs up and a gesture to the fanny pack. She gives a thumbs up back, eyes closed, movements sloppy. I'm sure she hadn't any idea what he was talking about.

Comments

Anonymous said…
Brilliant. It's the little things in life, like this, that are worth documenting. I'd like to think so anyway.

Entertaining post. :)
10:39 PM
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