Shopping

You know, when I was younger one of my many reasons for wanting to avoid marriage had to do with seeing all of those depressed husbands being dragged around the mall while their wives shopped. You know the ones, you always see them sitting there with their wives' purses looking completely dejected and often even sleeping. Sometimes with a stroller in tow. Really pathetic if you asked me.

This last Sunday the wife and I went to the Macy's at Herald Square. For those of you not from New York, this is THE Macy's. The one of the Thanksgiving parade and Miracle on 34th Street. It is pretty much how you might imagine it. There is a sign on the store that says "World's biggest department store" and I'm not sure if it is a fact or a slogan but it sure seems true. It is a massive store, taking up two buildings spread out over an entire New York city block, between Broadway & 7th and 34th & 35th. And I don't remember for sure but I think it has at least 12 floors in each building. It is a really daunting place. And somewhat annoying as you might imagine. But when you live in Manhattan there are times when it really is the best place to go for certain things. Like dress shirts. And apparently women's undergarments.

I needed dress shirts and a new pair of black shorts. My wife needed to look at some bras. So off to Macy's we went. It was crowded of course. We got me a dress shirt, shorts, and a few other shirts. My wife wasn't happy with the bra selection so she went home empty handed. It was a somewhat annoying day, being in a big crowded department store filled with tons of people, a good number of them tourists.

But I got to thinking how not-so-bad it was. I hate shopping. Always have. I would have thought that having a wife would make it even worse but in fact the inverse is true. Shopping in so much better since I got married.

In my single days when I needed something like pants, shirts or shorts I would run in to the store, quickly find something that seemed passable and probably my size and run out. So it goes without saying that it was not uncommon for me to end up with a) shit that didn't fit, and b) clothes that looked fucking stupid once they were on my body. And being a single guy that stuff just sat in my closet for years because I never bothered to take it back. That would have required an extra trip to the dreaded store. Good Will used to get a lot of great unworn clothes from me.

It is so much better with my wife there. First of all, since she actually finds me attractive (at least that what she says) she is always looking out for stuff that I look good in. With her around I also always try clothes on now. This has stopped me from walking out with things that looked like good choices on the rack but look really dumb on me. She has also convinced me to go with the bigger size in pants despite my insistence that I want to stay a 34, even though I'm really a 35 now. I would walk out with 34s thinking, "Well they don't feel horribly tight," not realizing that even if they don't feel too tight they look really goddamn tight and make my gut and my ass look even bigger.

She's also really good at matching ties to shirts, which I'm proud to say I'm really shitty at doing. I have no interest or talent in putting dress clothes together. With the wife around I don't walk out of the apartment looking like an idiot with a plaid tie and a striped shirt.

So things go so much better at the clothing stores than they used to for me.

Sure, I sometimes have to find the husband chair in the women's department when my honey needs to find some things for herself. But she never takes all that long when I'm there and she never, ever makes me hold her purse.

It dawned on me that all of those miserable husbands aren't unhappy because they've been dragged to the department store by their wives. They're unhappy because they've been dragged there by their fucking lame, shitty wives.

And I don't have one of those.