Wednesday, May 01, 2013

DON'T DO IT, DON'T DO IT, THEY WILL ALL SCREAM

Sometime, just for the hell of it, I should accompany a woman shopping for shoes or handbags. I've talked about it often enough, and even slagged it ferociously. Nothing, in my mind, can be as toxic and soul-destroying as spending several hours on a perfectly good weekend-day, tortuously pursuing the perfect piece of ridiculously overpriced leather.
And doubtlessly people who do so are stark-raving mad.

In all fairness then, I should give it a shot.
Rather than dismissing it out of hand.


Men, you know, never shop. At least not willingly. Most of us males find our clothes and stylish accoutrements lying by the side of the road, already broken-in and acclimatized to the beer-swilling burger snarfing football hooting gender for which they were made. Several decades ago. By mysterious gnomes in the Antarctic. We don't buy our habiliment, we inherit it. From a long deceased fratbrother whose uber cool dude fashion sense would have awed us endlessly, if we were actually ever aware of it.
We still worship him as a god.
We just don't shop.

Women do.

It's a flaw in their otherwise lovable characters.

One which drives men to frustration and sixpacks of beer.

.....

How bad can it be? Honestly?

Given that sex and sports bore most women senseless, this might be the chance to see a beautiful face wreathed in smiles. Closer than most men will ever get. On that note alone it's worth a shot. Why, she'll be all sparkly and vivacious for hours, and too tired for dinner afterwards. As well as entirely distracted. All she'll want is a long hot bath.

I'll say goodbye at her door, then go merrily skipping down the road to the nearest junk-food palace, not a care in the world. Because, gentlemen, I saw a young lady at her very best. And she was ecstatic!

It's what all men dream of.



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