SPECIAL TO THE SOMERS RECORD (12-28-17)
Every year we go through this same charade: Four days before Christmas, me and a bunch of other guys, say about 160 million of us, walk around the malls in America with an empty shopping cart and a vacuous look on our face.We stare straight ahead, walking stiffly around the store, narrowly missing each other in an oddly-choreographed zombie-like daze. During that time, we visit the Auto Parts section, the Home Improvement department and the Candy aisle looking for possible gifts for our wives or girlfriends. This goes EXTREMELY well. At the end of the hour we have accumulated a bunch of stuff. No, we didn't find anything for the wife or girlfriend, but we picked up a really cool five-in-one folding screwdriver and an awesome tactical flashlight that makes me want to upgrade my tactics.
How did this go so wrong? I started out in the Women's lingerie section, where I encountered articles of clothing that are supposed to cover parts of a woman that I didn't even know existed. No wonder Victoria kept them a secret. Panty-hose in the color "nude?" Why don't you simply just not wear them? Aren't bra sizes the same as battery sizes? You have your triple-A batteries, those really tiny ones, and you have your D cells, etc. I found myself checking my tactical flashlight to make sure I had the right bra size. Would it be out of line to ask the salesgirl to try these things on- she's about my wife's size. Is this real leopard skin? Somewhere there is a leopard with no underwear on. As I'm touching this garment with the newfound concern of an animal activist, women around me are appraising me for my criminal history.
I shuffled off sideways to the jewelry department, and things didn't go much better there. What is my wife's birthstone? Isn't it tin? Or is that for an anniversary? Everything is so damn expensive. Maybe I should try a cubic zirconium, but who wants a ring in that shape? And is zirconium a real thing? I don't remember it from school as being in the Table of the Elements, but I checked it only Periodically.
The day after Christmas the world starts spinning backwards, as its inhabitants strive to undo most of what has been done in the previous few weeks. As I stand ruefully on the returns line at Customer Service I feel that my television should also be with me sharing the misery. Every thirty seconds it promised me those five words: "Makes a great Christmas gift!" Turns out the WeatherTech car floor mat didn't make a great Christmas gift, it only underscored how much dirt and mud a man can track into a woman's car.
Raise your hand if you bought the Chia Pet. Hey, she is always raving about how much she loves a good salad, and I found out that chia is edible and maybe she can put the Chia Pet clippings in there if I give it a haircut. Last year they had an Obama Chia Pet, but this year, no Trump. I guess the instructions would be too abstruse- you would have to turn the Chia Trump every day in different directions in order to get the plants to grow toward the sun in the shape of the weirdest comb-over in the history of the planet.
Did you get her a Clapper? If by some remote chance she applauded that gift I would be plunged into darkness. On the television channel that my wife is watching in the other room a commercial shows a brand new Lexus in the driveway with a big bow on it, the whole family jumping up and down beside it.
She said she was happy with all her gifts, and I hope she is not just being nice. So ladies, if you're out there, we tried. We really do love you, but don't underestimate the fun you can have with a good tactical flashlight.
Every year we go through this same charade: Four days before Christmas, me and a bunch of other guys, say about 160 million of us, walk around the malls in America with an empty shopping cart and a vacuous look on our face.We stare straight ahead, walking stiffly around the store, narrowly missing each other in an oddly-choreographed zombie-like daze. During that time, we visit the Auto Parts section, the Home Improvement department and the Candy aisle looking for possible gifts for our wives or girlfriends. This goes EXTREMELY well. At the end of the hour we have accumulated a bunch of stuff. No, we didn't find anything for the wife or girlfriend, but we picked up a really cool five-in-one folding screwdriver and an awesome tactical flashlight that makes me want to upgrade my tactics.
How did this go so wrong? I started out in the Women's lingerie section, where I encountered articles of clothing that are supposed to cover parts of a woman that I didn't even know existed. No wonder Victoria kept them a secret. Panty-hose in the color "nude?" Why don't you simply just not wear them? Aren't bra sizes the same as battery sizes? You have your triple-A batteries, those really tiny ones, and you have your D cells, etc. I found myself checking my tactical flashlight to make sure I had the right bra size. Would it be out of line to ask the salesgirl to try these things on- she's about my wife's size. Is this real leopard skin? Somewhere there is a leopard with no underwear on. As I'm touching this garment with the newfound concern of an animal activist, women around me are appraising me for my criminal history.
I shuffled off sideways to the jewelry department, and things didn't go much better there. What is my wife's birthstone? Isn't it tin? Or is that for an anniversary? Everything is so damn expensive. Maybe I should try a cubic zirconium, but who wants a ring in that shape? And is zirconium a real thing? I don't remember it from school as being in the Table of the Elements, but I checked it only Periodically.
The day after Christmas the world starts spinning backwards, as its inhabitants strive to undo most of what has been done in the previous few weeks. As I stand ruefully on the returns line at Customer Service I feel that my television should also be with me sharing the misery. Every thirty seconds it promised me those five words: "Makes a great Christmas gift!" Turns out the WeatherTech car floor mat didn't make a great Christmas gift, it only underscored how much dirt and mud a man can track into a woman's car.
Raise your hand if you bought the Chia Pet. Hey, she is always raving about how much she loves a good salad, and I found out that chia is edible and maybe she can put the Chia Pet clippings in there if I give it a haircut. Last year they had an Obama Chia Pet, but this year, no Trump. I guess the instructions would be too abstruse- you would have to turn the Chia Trump every day in different directions in order to get the plants to grow toward the sun in the shape of the weirdest comb-over in the history of the planet.
Did you get her a Clapper? If by some remote chance she applauded that gift I would be plunged into darkness. On the television channel that my wife is watching in the other room a commercial shows a brand new Lexus in the driveway with a big bow on it, the whole family jumping up and down beside it.
She said she was happy with all her gifts, and I hope she is not just being nice. So ladies, if you're out there, we tried. We really do love you, but don't underestimate the fun you can have with a good tactical flashlight.
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