A fanny pack.
Yes, that's right. A fanny pack. I stopped him at the bottom of the stairs.
"What is that?"
"Around your waist. What is that."
"A fanny pack! I found it, it matches my backpack."
"Take it off immediately."
"No way! This thing is awesome--I can fit my wallet, my keys, my phone...I think I'm going to bring it back."
"That's what purses are for. And no, you are not."
"What?! My dad uses one!"
"That does not make it okay."
(strikes a pose, showing off the pack) "Come on! The wheel... the lightbulb... Reebok pumps... the fanny pack! It's one of the greatest inventions!"
I tried three times to take it away from him in the half hour before he left for work, but he is hell bent on keeping it. I will have to pry that thing from his cold, dead hands.
So while K has transformed into a fashion pioneer, I've been brainstorming ways to destroy my new arch nemesis. So far, I've thought of: strapping it to the tail pipe of his car, pouring spaghetti sauce into it, lighting it on fire, or "accidentally" throwing it out. I welcome any additional suggestions.
There is no sight more terrifying than a 6'6" man with a fanny pack. Not even Hulk Hogan can pull it off. They went out of style for a reason, just like Hammer pants. And scrunchies. Someone please tell this man that he looks ridiculous.