Fanny Pack

I have a joke about how I got mugged when I first moved to LA and how my mom asks me to consider “a fanny pack.” I don’t even remember if she really said that or if she did was the context directly related to my mugging. All I know is that lately, my need for a fanny pack has increased to dire proportions.

I hike often and I always have to have my keys (that are many. I’m like a building super.), my inhaler (I’m asthmatic and neurotic,), my license (in case I am eaten by a wild animal and they can’t identify my body.), some cash (in case I have to pay someone off.) and my cell phone (in case I have to call someone and tell them that I’m having an asthma attack, am being eaten by a wild animal and a fellow hiker is asking me to pay them off.) And I can’t keep on keeping these items in my sports bra. Yeah, I could keep them in a mini-back pack but then everything is always going to be behind me and not in my reach. Also my back will get sweaty.

So now I have a small, black Nike fanny pack. I walk to Runyon Canyon, via Hollywood Boulevard. I carry it like a small purse on my right arm for the walk there. Once on the canyon it seems perfectly acceptable, attractive people from all walks of life use them took, to put on the fanny pack. I put it on so that the pouch is on the side, not actually on my fanny.

It was awesome and I felt so free. I walked back from the hike down Hollywood Boulevard and was so happy to find that Elmo was waving at me, a Storm Trooper let me hold his gun and Darth Vader made a hissing noise as I passed. I love those dress-up fools at Hollywood and Highland and I’m like a little kid when I pass by. (Except the ones where no mask is involved like Superman or the Johnny Depp guy who dresses like the character from Pirates of the Caribbean. It is too intimate and creepy to take pictures or wave at them.)

But seriously stop handing me flyers for maps of the stars homes and waving me into the Hollywood Wax Museum. What the…? I walk by you guys all the time. Why did the girl at Starbucks when handing me my iced coffee ask me how I “enjoyed it so far.” Enjoyed what? I hadn’t even taken a sip yet! You guessed it. I forgot to remove you from around my waist you Freaking Fanny Pack. Even with the hiking boots and confident stride, if you have an FP on the streets of LA, you are a tourist.

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