Sack

One thought on “Sack”

  1. I never used a backpack. Or a messenger bag, or a briefcase, or a rolling suitcase, or a stroller, or a bandana tied to a stick. The closest thing I used to Bagular Transport in college was a secret Ziploc I kept hidden in my pocket – for sweaty days when deodorant and face-wash made the trip with me.

    Instead I perfected the one-arm tuck. Only the relevant course-materials stuffed securely beneath the nook in my shoulder. I liked what it said about me.

    Look at this guy, here. This guy knows exactly what he needs and he takes it with him. This guy’s all about efficiency. Factory-Caliber Optimization.

    But I know it’s bullshit.

    I never wore a bag because it hindered my stride. One of my favorite parts about college was swagging around anonymously, shoulders back, chest out to meet the sun, a swinging gait that I thought might make me stand out. I’m not a very confident guy but walking I can do.

    But now I’m stuck thinking about the type of walks I find attractive. I picture a young lady in the same sun, hunched over from the weight of her Janny, little thumbs tucked under the straps against her chest, full lean and cruising downhill without a care. That’s what I would notice. I might marry a walk like that.

    My own walk? I’d probably meet it with jeers and a derisive spit at the ground.

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