Fanny Pack-itis

July 3, 2008 at 4:54 am 7 comments

There is nothing more depressing than looking through hundreds, nay THOUSANDS, of profiles on (which activity feels, rather depressingly, to me like rummaging through the cut-price bra bin at Victoria’s Secret on their bi-annual sale in the hope that I will find my size… today at least… please god?) than to come across what seems to be the perfect guy, and then find out… yeaaahhh,  really not.

The guy in question, or I should say his profile, will usually have a really nice photograph. He’ll look cute in the thumbnail; even teeth, open countenance, mischievous eyes, boyish grin. Reading the standard info tells me he is a chamathu Iyer boy, no vices (well, apparently ‘social drinking’ has gained respectability in the community so much so that those who know their wine are not automatically termed “kudikaarans” anymore. If anything that might be a selling point –“Our son took a wine tasting course in South of France, you know.” And may even be a source of slight snobbery ”No, no! The boy does not drink whiskey, beer and all, only good wine”- How do YOU know if the wine is really good, mama? Eh, eh eh?)

Further examination of the profile shows that the Nakshatram is a match, and the gothram is not… phew! So far, so good. About me section reads- “I am fun-loving, well-travelled, and have been told I have a good sense of humour”- Sounds sane enough, if a little dull and déjà vu-ish. No warning signs of Texas Chainsaw murderous tendencies nor any of the “I want a verrrry beautiful, fair-almost albino- girl who will serve my parents hand and foot and knows how to cook panch-pakwaan everyday.”(replete with the most horrendous grammatical mistakes- ones that make me wish Esperanto was the world’s language for transacting business, even the matrimonial kind) – Seriously, what are guys who put down stuff like this thinking? Wait, are they thinking? Probably not.

Anyway, I digress, so to continue… I get all excited. I can hear nadaswaram, shehnai, church organ, sub-Saharan chanting, Alanis Morrisette, all in my head. I feel something I have not felt in MONTHS-a glimmer of hope. A heart beating faster. I approach the “express interest” button. But then… I notice the words ‘album’ under the thumbnail photograph. So I click on it and it expands the picture I’d been admiring. There he is, cute face, being all 5’10 and nicely built and then…,AAAURRRGGHHHHH! What is that? WHAT IS THAT? That hideous appendage to his hip? It’s not! Surely it’s not… a FANNY PACK!!!!!

But it didn’t end there. The next picture was of him wearing those weird coated sunglasses that make everyone look like Jeff Goldblum in ‘The Fly’ standing by some weird pond-looking thing surrounded by Asian people of the Mongloid race but who all had their back to him. Singapore? Thailand? But why those hideous sunglasses? That is probably why the others were looking away.

But really the third photograph was the one that did the complete opposite of sealing the deal for me. The man wore teeny, tiny short shorts. Hot pants, really. The picture was taken in someone’s apartment, on a couch, where a peroxide blonde with her roots exposed was, for lack of a better word to describe the pose, draped around him.

Now, I fully expect comments to the effect- “US la idhellam sagajam, ma” [for those who do not know tamil, that translates roughly into “This kind of thing goes in the US”] OR “If you’re going to be so picky, you’re never going to get married” OR “Fanny Pack-itis is completely curable- All it needs is a course of antibiotics, consumption of ALL the Rambo movies in the span of 48 hours and yeah, ‘So you think you can dance?’ is totally contra-indicated.” But the point is not that I object to his decision to wear the fanny pack or the sunglasses or the teeny shorts or the blonde. I question his intelligence in posting those particular pictures on Really! What WAS he thinking? Oh wait, no, he wasn’t.

So no, no wedding for me this December either, I guess. But that’s ok. At least I won’t be the one warning the children about the dangers of Fanny Pack-itis. 😀


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True Lies

7 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Deepa Iyer  |  July 3, 2008 at 5:32 am

    muuaaaahhhhhh…. Way to go babe.. Keep them coming…. Am sure there ll be a knight in the shining armor waiting for you (esp after reading this blog)

  • 2. Karthik Kumar  |  July 3, 2008 at 1:09 pm

    Nee ellariyum enna benchmark vechundu thedina unakka kalyanam aana maadiri dhaan. :))

    Konjam vittu kudu ma.. Ennamo Herpes, Hemorrhoids nu disease level ku na unnoda “Fanny Pack-itis” a ezhudirke. 😛

    Seri Seri….Continue searching.. Try other sites also. 😉

  • 3. unwedintheusa  |  July 3, 2008 at 2:21 pm

    Dei Darth, idhukku dhaan I erkanave said in the post that I anticipate stuff like “If you’re going to be so picky, you’re never going to get married”

    But one woman’s Herpes is another woman’s Fanny Pack obsession.

    And anyway, inikku indha vishayathula vittu kudutha, nalaikku he’ll want to wear a Hawaiian shirt to dinner…. NOT in Hawaii. 😛

  • 4. Dinesh Babu  |  July 10, 2008 at 3:40 pm

    I had to search Wiki and find out what Fanny Pack is. Traveller’s Pouch … yes … nammalunga adha kattikuvanga for US to India and India to US trip, including me. But adha poi photo eduthu Shaadi la potturkanna he must be 100W bulb. May be he is hiding his thoppai. Good luck with your search.

  • 5. Paradox Phillic  |  July 12, 2008 at 3:20 pm

    This post was like a Déjà vu for me…
    You see, I have been a victim too of the wonders of these matrimonial sites … and one too many times.

    For all its worth,
    1. You are not alone (You could read similar vagaries of my life under the label “Matrimony” in
    2. At the end of the day, if nothing else you do get you fair share of amusement from all this.

  • 6. harmaan  |  August 27, 2008 at 7:04 pm

    mazhyashi lagna karshil, tarangini?

  • 7. unwedintheusa  |  August 30, 2008 at 1:14 am

    Harmaan, thanks. Baghu. By the way, my mom better not have read your comment! Suddenly she will appear with a shagun ki thaali at your place (it matters not that she doesn’t know where you live- a mother’s love is strong enough to overcome such minor stumbling blocks.)


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