He hates to shop. I used to just buy him a few things whenever I saw something on sale, but I gave up. I never got the size right and ended up having to return half the things. I decided that he was an adult and could handle his own attire.
His solution was to not worry about it.
Until he had to.
I had it all planned that he and I would go out for his birthday on Friday night. On Friday afternoon, he called me to say, "I know this is going to sound like I've lost my mind, but I think we should go to the outlet mall (in the town near our house) to shop for new clothes for me.
I couldn't believe my ears. I was happy that he was finally going to do it, but I was a little bummed. I knew it could be a rough night.
Let me take you through a shopping trip with Bryan.
Store 1: Shopping for pants and polos.
Bryan, after exiting the changing room wearing a pair of khakis: "These fit, but there's no room for growth."
Me: Well, I'm pretty sure you're past the age where we need to worry about you growing.
Bryan: Pretty sure that in the next 10 years I'll be growing.
He bought the next bigger waist size.
Store 2: Shoes
Bryan: "I know this sounds crazy, but I think I'm going to get 4 pairs. It's a buy one get one 50% off sale."
Me, holding up a pair of boat shoes: "Only if you are going to go wild and buy something like these. You know, something that an adult would wear with jeans or shorts instead of one of the 8 pairs of worn out running shoes you wear."
Bryan: "Only if they have ties on them. I can't get shoes that don't have laces."
He bought 1 pair each of black, brown, and burgundy dress shoes and one pair of blue (slip on with pretend ties) casual shoes.
At least nothing was velcro. He had a mess of velcro when we met in high school. Even his wallet and his shorts were velcro. It took me years to break him of his velcro addiction.
Store 3: Luggage
I promised Lizzi that I would have better, less back-breaking luggage the next time I came to visit. I'm pretty sure the luggage we had was a wedding gift, back before modern technology gave us luggage one didn't have to actually carry. Since there was a luggage outlet store, we went in and decided to buy some. This happened when Bryan went to pay:
Teller: "I'm sorry, but your card was declined."
Bryan: "Really?!?! Let me swipe it again."
Bryan: "Hold on. My phone is ringing."
Bryan: "It's the credit card company. They stopped payment thinking my card was stolen."
Teller waits 5 minutes while Bryan calls card company and verifies all three purchases.
We then left the store, laughing our full heads off.
"They were concerned, seeing as how the charges weren't on a weekday for $7 at Taco Bell."
"I guess when we do this again in 10 years, we'll notify the card company first."
"With these purchases, the only two conclusions they could come to was stolen card or husband leaving his wife. They wanted to stop me either way."
"It is a little creepy that they can identify odd charges and call so fast. Although, I appreciate the fact they have my back if you decide to head for the hills."
"I kinda wish Buttercup was here. She would have been mortified."
"You're writing a blog post already aren't you?"
"The post is writing itself, Honey."
At one point during the shopping trip, I took a photo to put on Instagram.
|Just before going in to buy the luggage.|
I was trying to come up with a funny caption that started, "A sight more rare than..."
I couldn't come up with the right analogy, so I asked Bryan for an example of something that was rare to see. He replied, "Haley's Comet". True, but that is far from funny.
I never did get it posted, seeing as how the captions we came up with started lame and went downhill from there.
"...a full set of teeth in a Wal-Mart" is the best of the worst we could come up with before we got distracted by the clothing in the 4th store.
Store 4, aka the last store: More shirts
Me: "Any chance you'd go way out of the comfort zone and get something...I don't know...not blue or green?"
Bryan: "Yes. I need to look hip, what with these new associates we've hired looking up to me and all."
The man actually picked up an orange polo and a purple button down.
Watch out Associates. The bald, "beer"-bellied hipster is in the house.
Store 4, continued:
I knew this store was going to be a problem. It was a problem when we were here 10 years ago, and I knew things hadn't changed. I even mentioned it when we went in the store.
As we walked up to pay for his new, hip clothing, I took a look at the poor teller. She was just a young, adorable girl. I felt bad for her before any word was spoken.
Teller: "Can I have your email address?"
Teller: "It's just to let you know when we have some deals coming up."
Bryan: "Use your own."
Teller types something while muttering: "Fine. I'll use my own."
Teller: "Can I have your first and last name?"
Bryan: "No. Are you going to let me buy clothes without giving you my name or am I walking out of here with nothing?"
Teller, looking down, muttering: "I just want to make my managers happy."
He walked out with his purple and orange shirts, proclaiming, "When I come back in 10 years, I'll have a name for them. I'm leaning towards Seymour Butts."
It was then that I remembered an incident with Buttercup.
I took her shopping last week for some much-needed church clothes. I had her pay for something while I went to a different store. After paying, she came up to me and said, "She asked for an email address. I gave her yours, but instead of saying christineL I told her it was christineA."
It seems an aversion to tellers and their nosy questions is hereditary.
Have a lovely day!