Posted on 07/18/2004 9:53:42 AM PDT by nuconvert
She'll Shop till I Drop
BY DAVE BARRY
July 18, 2004
I can't shop with my wife. The problem is that she almost never has a clear objective. I ALWAYS have a clear objective. Without a clear objective, you're just wandering randomly around a store, which is NOT the point of shopping.
This is not just my opinion: This is the opinion of literally thousands of Nobel-Prize-winning scientists whose names are available upon request. These scientists have traced the origins of shopping back to prehistoric times, when ''shopping'' was called ''hunting,'' and primitive man would make out his ''shopping list'' by drawing, on his cave wall, a picture of his objective, usually a large wad of meat in the form of, say, a yak. He would then go out into the wild, locate his objective, and make the ''purchase'' by whomping the yak on the head with a club.
This primitive shopper did not dilly-dally. He did not ask whether the yak was on sale. He did not try to accessorize the yak. He did not summon his primitive men friends and ask them if they thought the yak made his hips look big. No, he just WHOMPED THE YAK, and then he dragged it home, stopping only to whomp the primitive sales guys who appeared out of nowhere and tried to force him to purchase the service agreement.
This is the biological basis for shopping. And this is why, even today, most men, when they shop, are yak-whompers. They do not wander: They go straight for the kill. I know I do. When I enter a store, I have a definite, practical, no-nonsense objective in mind, which is to locate, and secure, an electronic gizmo that I already have, except the new one has more features.
For example, recently, in a surgical shopping strike so blindingly fast you would need slow-motion replay to even see it, I located and secured a new cellphone that, in addition to being a phone, receives e-mail AND takes extremely low-quality photographs. It has changed my life. Now, when I'm not using my phone's cellphone feature (''Hello? Hello? Hello?'') I can use the camera feature to record precious moments that I can share with others. (''Here's a picture of my daughter's ballet recital. Or, the Grand Canyon.'') And thanks to my phone's e-mail feature, even when I'm away from my computer, I can receive the literally hundreds of urgent messages I receive every day from people wishing to enhance my manhood.
My wife did not understand why I needed this phone. Yet every guy I show it to immediately agrees that it is a vital necessity. I have a friend named Robert who has a similar phone, and recently we discovered that, theoretically, I could ''beam'' my address and phone number from my phone to his phone THROUGH THE AIR. I say ''theoretically'' because we could not get it to actually work, although we spent a good 10 minutes standing about a foot apart, pointing our phones at each other and fruitlessly pressing buttons. Several women watched this with some amusement; they suggested that -- get this -- it might be quicker for me to just TELL Robert my address and phone number, which would have represented a wanton and reckless disregard on our part for the beaming feature. These women also suggested that we look at our owner's manuals, which of course is out of the question. For a guy, reading the manual is tantamount to admitting that, manhoodwise, you are in the hamster category.
But my point is that I acquired this phone via the standard guy method: in a bold, decisive, lightning-quick stroke. You're in; you're out; you're done! (I'm talking about shopping here.) Whereas my wife, when she gets inside a store, routinely takes astoundingly long periods of time to accomplish, essentially, nothing. She just shops! With no objective! She can spend what feels like days just looking at -- without actually purchasing -- stationery. She's always in the market for stationery because she's always writing notes to her women friends, who are always writing notes back to her thanking her for her note, which causes HER to write back to THEM, and so on.
So I can't go shopping with her. It makes me crazy. If I needed stationery, bang, I would grab some stationery and get the hell out of there. Of course I don't need stationery, because, as a guy, I never write notes. If I ever had a message for one of my friends, I would just beam it to him. Or I will, once I have mastered that feature.
'It'll only take 5 minutes'.
Uh-huh. And 1 hour later...
Cripes...
LoL.
When I shop, I'm usually on a mission.
He would not like to go shopping with me. I'm a power shopper. I love to shop. It takes me a whole day to do all of my shopping. Then, it takes me two days to recover. LOL
Remember this phrase.
Shop till you drop, then sit down and buy shoes.
CK Ping~~Shopping Alert!!
"But my point is that I acquired this phone via the standard guy method: in a bold, decisive, lightning-quick stroke. You're in; you're out; you're done! (I'm talking about shopping here.) Whereas my wife, when she gets inside a store, routinely takes astoundingly long periods of time to accomplish, essentially, nothing. She just shops! With no objective!"
Joke: "Cash, check or charge?" I asked after folding items the woman wished to purchase. As she fumbled for her wallet I notice a remote control for a television set in her purse. "Do you always carry your TV remote?" I asked. "No," she replied. "But my husband refused to come shopping with me, so I figured this was the worst thing I could do to him."
Heheheh.
Mrs VS
I thought Dave Barry was divorced.
It works either way, I prefer loathe.
Well whaddaya know. Learned somethin' new.
As soon as my daughter meets someone who will shop with her AND can afford to pay for her pillage, we will know it is the perfect match.
I don't keep up with celebrity gossip. He writes regularly about his wife, so I assume he's married.
We don't advertise it, but there are places where men actually "shop".
Follow the smell of fresh-cut lumber.
Seek out the calendar on the wall with the buxom blond wearing little more than a tool belt.
Here you will find the secret enclave of male shoppers, leisurely hunting without gathering much of anything, and socializing with their fellow men.
Look on your own street for the neighbor who has the garage door up, the radio blasting, and the engine on the hoist. Chances are he's got company (and lots of adult beverages).
The aroma of new tires is an irresistable magnet to them, but a crushing bore to their wives.
So if you're bored with your shopping experience, maybe you're not shopping for the right things...
Depends on what is on my to do list. If I just need milk, then that is all I get when I go in. Did this just yesterday. Now fabric shopping is another story.
No. That's much scarier specimen. Car salesman.
One evening last week, my wife and I were getting into bed. Well, I start to feel passionate, and she eventually says "I don't feel like it, I just want you to hold me."
I said "WHAT????!!! What was that?!" So she says the words that every husband on the planet dreads to hear..."You're just not in touch with my emotional needs as a woman enough for me to satisfy your physical needs as a man." She responded to my puzzled look by saying, "Can't you just love me for who I am and not what I do for you in the bedroom?"
Realizing that nothing was going to happen that night I went to sleep.
The very next day I opted to take the day off of work to spend time with her. We went out to a nice lunch and then went shopping at a big, big unnamed department store. I walked around with her while she tried on several different very expensive outfits. She couldn't decide which one to take so I told her we'll just take them all. She wanted new shoes to complement her new clothes, so I said let's get a pair for each outfit.
We went on to the jewelry department where she picked out a pair of diamond earrings. Let me tell you...she was so excited. She must have thought I was one wave short of a shipwreck. I started to think she was testing me because she asked for a tennis bracelet when she doesn't even know how to play tennis.
I think I threw her for a loop when I said, "That's fine, honey." She was almost nearing sexual satisfaction from all of the excitement.
Smiling with excited anticipation she finally said, "I think this is all dear, let's go to the cashier".
I could hardly contain myself when I blurted out, "Honey, I just don't feel like it." Her face just went completely blank as her jaw dropped with a baffled, "WHAT???!!!"
I then said, "Really honey! I just want you to HOLD this stuff for a while. You're just not in touch with my financial needs as a man enough for me to satisfy your shopping needs as a woman."
And just when she had this look like she was going to kill me I added, "Why can't you just love me for who I am and not for the things I buy you?"
I guess I'm not having sex tonight either.
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