It's Saturday night and my dogs are barking. Why? Because, unlike most real men, I had my black ass dragged to the outlets so that Mrs. Field could buy a couple of handbags that cost what folks in some Third World countries earn in a year. Yes, I am experiencing some guilt. But hey, it's her money. And, to be fair, she can be generous with it at times.
Still, it's not cool sitting in the hubby-seat while women lose their natural minds in a store that is set up just for them. The poor old guy sitting next to me-newly retired, living in Chester County, granddaughter just going off to college, and wife doing what she does best. Shop. I know all this, of course, because the poor guy and I had no choice but to exchange pleasantries and our life stories while we waited- was feeling just like I was: Trapped. So in between checking my blog and messages on my crackberry, and listening to the poor guy talk, all I could do was watch and wait in amazement.
If I wanted to live my second life as Lothario, when I die I would come back as a designer handbag. Nothing gets a woman's attention like a designer handbag. Nothing.
Of course it didn't stop there. There were other stores to see. Other things to buy. This is the "for worse" part of those marriage vows. Why can't outlets and malls come up with a kind of day care for husbands? A big room with refreshments, and television sets on every wall with ESPN and various sports channels on every one of those bad boys. And while we are at it; let's throw in some magazines to read, pool tables, and the whole nine yards. Kind of like the VIP lounge at an airport. The mall that comes up with that concept will double their business withing weeks. I guarantee it.
Oh well, all is well that ends well. I am home, safe and sound, and I was not trampled by a pack of deal hunting females.
Finally, in keeping with the spirit of this post, I have a confession to make: I watch basketball wives because of Royce Reed. Does that make me a bad person, or shallow in any way? I sure hope not, because after what I went through today, I realize that I deserve some guilty pleasures in life. I think Mrs. Field would understand.