You will never believe what I saw at the gym this weekend, an object of antiquity that personifies obsolescence in its purest form, a dinosaur amongst men. A fellow gym patron walked by and as he passed I noticed there was Walkman strapped snugly around his waist, as if proudly on display.
Can you believe that shit? I haven’t seen one of these fossils since, oh I don’t know, the 80’s. The contraption was so enormous, that it had to be tied to this guy’s abdomen by some gigantic neoprene strap with Velcro, resembling more of a corset than anything else. He may as well have walking around with a Boom Box on his shoulder? What the hell is next, fanny packs and calculator watches? Seriously, where does one even find a fucking Walkman? A Betamax would probably fly out of my ass before I could locate one of these relics. Even homeless people own Discmans. Now, in no way am I implying that you need to run out and by yourself an Mp3 player, but holy shit, if strapping an 8 track player to your body is going to be the only way you get to enjoy Gladys Knight and the Pips, I think I have a Best Buy gift card lying around from Christmas that I’ll gladly donate.
Unless you work at a technology museum, or stumbled across a time capsule, there is no reason why you should be caught dead in public with a Walkman. Have some fucking decency.