Lunch Bag Lame-O

I am learning that sometimes you have to humble yourself when you move in with your significant other.  I am all down with the equal partnership and that whole ‘what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine’  philosophy but, seriously, sometimes I just don’t want it…no offense, darling.  This whole realization came to light last week over a lunch bag.

Yes…a lunch bag.

Since moving in together I have been coming to terms with how much of my crap is just that – crap – and this included the lunch bag that has otherwise served me well over the past eight years or so.  In all that time, I’ve probably cleaned it out, like, twice; and even then it certainly wasn’t what my girlfriend would consider as ‘thorough’. But be that as it may, my sweetheart came to my rescue and volunteered her own lunch bag with the idea that she would purchase herself a new girly one.  Hey, whatever works!  So low and behold I came the proud new owner of a blue lunch bag to replace my old, worn out filthy one with the Ebola virus growing in the bottom.  I couldn’t be happier…until I arrived at work the next day that is.

Exhibit A

I knew it was not going to turn out well for me, however, once I parked the car and retrieved the bag along with my office stuff from the trunk.  First off, it had a rose embroidered on the front that I had overlooked before.  My girlfriend, thoughtful girl she is, had packed my lunch the night before so I had not really had a chance to peruse said bag prior to next days big unveiling.  Likewise, the manufacturer was ‘Elle’, which does not equate to ‘Manly’ in my books.


All this aside, there was one major (read this as ‘HUGE’) flaw with the lunch bag: there was no shoulder strap.  Why is this important you ask? Well, when one is carrying a hand held bag through the streets of downtown on his way to the office, especially one with pretty flowers emblazoned on it, one tends to get comments like “Nice, purse buddy!”, and “Cute bag, Paris!”  from other male passersby. Usually I’m pretty secure in my own sexuality as to not let what others think get to me, but when total strangers are taking pot-shots at your manhood, well, lets just say it’s not a great start to the day.

When I arrived at the office it was just more of the same with one notable exception:  “Umm, Terry.  Did you purposely accessorize with your girl bag this morning?”  Pardon? Then it hit me:  somehow, I had inadvertently complimented my entire dress that day around that stupid lunch bag.  Fuck me!  Definitely not cool.  I don’t think I’ve ever accessorized, or put any conscious effort into stylishly matching my outfits as a matter of fact, which is blatantly obvious by my collection of ugly shirts that had already been purged from my wardrobe earlier last week.  How did this happen?  I had inadvertently opened myself up to a whole host of insults, jeers, zings, taunts, cheap shots, slams, slanders and slaps to the preverbal face from the rest of my work peers and “so called’ friends.  Truth be told, it was open season on my sorry, feminine-looking ass this past Friday.  Going to lunch that day was on par with taking a steel-toed boot to the Charlie Brown’s.

And it didn’t get any better once I got home either as even my GIRLFRIEND – my “partner” – had jumped in on the bandwagon too.  It was like the whole world had decided to ridicule my very manliness!  Not good. I may as well have painted my nails and wore a flower-print sundress with flip-flops.


Just freakin’ excellent!  Even if she does win me that stupid new lunch bag, I still may never be able to show my face outside our home again.  But just in case that day does come again, here is an example of what I would deem as an appropriate ‘manly’ lunch bag; something that I would be more comfortable in sporting around the office and neighborhood.

A real manly-man's lunch bag

Now THIS is a lunch bag.  Maybe I could even find one with skulls all over it, camouflage, beer logos, or some other such motif more befitting of a real dude.  Personally, I could get behind a lunch bag with pictures of burgers, steaks and other grillable cuts of meat all over it…just sayin’.  No one would question my masculinity then, boy, no sir!  They’d all be saying:  “Look at that stud over there with the awesome lunch bag, I bet he had cahones the size of grapefruits.”  I can dream anyway…

God help me!

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