Hey, it’s Christmastime. Let’s forget our differences and take to heart the spirit this time of year is meant for us to feel. And while you’re at it — get the heck outta my parking spot, you &$(%#!!!!
That’s right, kids, we’re in holiday mode and it’s everyone for themselves. And don’t let those little old ladies fool you! They’re animals.
Get in your car now because traffic won’t get any better. To make it worse, it’s getting darker earlier, meaning rush hour is illuminated by all those thousand headlights making it seem there are millions of taillights between you and the dreaded mall.
I hate the mall. Maybe twice a year I’ll visit the mall around lunchtime just to break up the excitement of doing all the other lunchtime stuff that gets boring. Of course, after 30 minutes I realize I still hate the mall and I leave — smelling noticeably fabulous.
Quit spraying that stuff on us when we pass down the cologne aisle!
Shopping is not a compatible activity for men and women. Maybe some men like to accompany their wives when they shop — especially during the holidays — but I suspect they’re under duress.
I represent millions, or at least assume I represent millions of men who look at holiday shopping the same way they do a drug-free colonoscopy. Or, worse, being trapped in a room with a TV that has only one channel and, even worse, plays only “Real Housewives of Atlanta” reruns over and over.
Seriously, how can that show not just fade away?
Stop trying to figure out the “in-betweens” of compatible unisex shopping. It doesn’t work. It was never meant to work. And it doesn’t work for a good reason: men are failures when it comes to shopping.
Men are mission-oriented. Our motto: “Go-Get-Out-Drink-Beer-Watch-Football.” Genetically, we’re still in caveman mode while women have progressed light-years ahead of us to whatever super intelligent metaphor fits here.
Men only shop when it’s absolutely necessary
I, for one, am thankful I’m not in charge of anything remotely connected with shopping expectations. Don’t get me wrong, I do the shopping that is required in our marriage agreement. I like to get Detective Sandy a surprise gift for the holidays.
One Christmas when she was expecting some load-bearing suspenders and harness combination for even weight distribution during tactical situations, she opened up the box and what was in there? None other than a tactical S.T.R.I.K.E. Commando Recon Chest Harness! Boo-yah!
Talk about a romantic moment! We were as one, tactically.
I hate shopping, except when I need something that directly benefits me. Tools and other useful things that I can justify to myself are the main focus of any endeavor I take that requires standing in line, watching other people who appear to be enjoying the shopping experience and saying to myself: “How can ‘Real Housewives of Atlanta’ stay on the air??!! Seriously, are we zombies? This is it? How did we get to the top, or near the top, of the food chain? Or did we?”
Look, from me and the other men of the planet who feel the same way — because I assume they do — thank you for going shopping. Thank you for doing what we not only won’t do, but can’t do. I admit it.
I freak out at Hancock Fabrics and, as exciting as Velcro can be, I just can’t get through the door. Even when you go to the cool stores like Big Jake’s World of Beef Jerky, or that mall store with the cool stuff like the massage chair that nobody really owns, you can handle it and I can’t.
I need you. I can’t go to the grocery store with a list of three things to get. I go in needing cereal, coffee and milk and I come out with a muffler. How does that even happen?
Please, ladies, let us wallow in all those lame reasons for not wanting to shop with you, but know that we’re just plain scared.
Show me a husband who jumps at the chance to “run to Nordstrom’s” and I’ll show you a man who seriously needs a toolbox to serve as his happy place.
You are the Great Shopping Goddesses. Keep on truckin’!
- By Lt. Steve Rose, View from the Cop blog