WTF Is This “Man Bag” Shit? Grow Up.

Three times this week I’ve seen people — OK, males (I won’t call them men) — wail or giggle about real men who carry shoulder bags.

What the fuck is this shit?

I’ve been carrying a fucking bag on my shoulders since nineteen fucking eighty-four.

And guess what?

In New York City, that was considered late to the game.

I’ve blown out my left shoulder several times from the weight of the goddammed bag. My back doctor was amazed at how “developed” my left shoulder is compared to my right (well, fuck, gotta keep the right side free for the occasional fist swing). Now I’m carrying it on my right shoulder because my left can no longer take it (for the occasional fist, I’m resigned to just dumping the fucking bag onto the concrete and hoping nothing inside will break — much).

I don’t know how the hell anyone can claim to be an intelligent man here in the twenty-first century future without heaving a damned bag on your shoulder.

Where am I supposed to put my three AC adapters? What about the 1-3 books I usually have (sometimes more if I’m bringing returns to the NYPL)? The 2-3 bottles or 4 cans of soda? My folding keyboard? Paper towels (to wipe rain off a bench or stanch the occasional bit of blood — that latter hasn’t happened yet)? Snack foods? Folding umbrella? Things I’ve picked up in a store? And all the other shit packed in that bag?

My bag is usually ten pounds to begin with. Sometimes it’s gotten up to twenty (hence the forlorn and protesting left shoulder).

Anyone I see without a shoulder bag I eye with deep suspicion. I can immediately see that person doesn’t read, is probably afraid of looking like a “girl” or a “queer,” most likely couldn’t use a computer even if the payoff was hot sex with a supermodel, and fuck all is someone I’d rather not have in my proximity.

So stop all this shit about “man bags.” Grow the fuck up. It’s sign of IQ, goddammit. Shoulder it with some self-respect.

And for the males — who are clearly not men — who are still all ascared: in all the years I’ve been lugging mine, I have never gotten any comments about looking like a “girl” or a “queer.” Maybe that’s because I live in New York City, where most of the people are fucking grown-ups.

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