It was bound to happen, just a matter of time. My bride walked into the room and unceremoniously announced to no one in particular, “Take me shopping.” So we loaded up in the old truck and drove the six miles to town. She wanted to go to Kohl’s a department store in Yukon, Oklahoma. After parking the truck we walked a short distance to the store, upon entering the store, immediately, she spots a garment (a blouse) hanging on a garment rack.
She walks over to it, feels of it, strokes it, appraises it from every angle, and then looks at me and says, “Whadya think. Its 50% off.” I look at it, it is nice, sheer, almost transparent the tag reads, $17.99 marked down from $36.00. It is kind of blue and green in color, and as I said you can see right thru it, very much MY kind of blouse.
I say to her, “I dunno?” and kind of shrug my shoulders.
We move on, you see I know that I am here to drive the truck, my appraisal or value placed on any item in that store, means nothing. I am now taken to the pots and pans, the stainless steel items that shine in the artificial sunshine of the store, with their clear lexan tops and bright polish. We look at several, again, picking up a cookie pan that will produce almost magically 24 cup cakes, she says to me, “What do you think?” as if my input or opinion really mattered.
I again, “shrug my shoulders and silently wish that I had begged off back at the house when asked to volunteer for this mission.”
Things go well for the next ten minutes or so, and I make it all the way thru housewares without incident. I am now in bath towels and fluffy stuff. Then I see them. Flashlights!
All manner of flashlights, on a rack, silver ones, red ones, blue Flashlights. They are everywhere, so somewhat like a drunken sailor I saunter over to them and I feel them. I admire them. They have little buttons on them and the sign says …. “Try me.”
I look up and all of a sudden, she is nowhere to be seen, I am alone, just me and the Flashlights.
The Christmas muzak blares from the overhead speakers and I am magically transported to another time and another place. Having left my cellphone home on the counter, there is no way I can locate her, and I am certainly not going to go on a search and rescue mission in a department store.
Slowly I gravitate towards the front of the store, the main entrance, and assume a position at the perfume counter. Shifting one side of my body weight to the left shoe, I assume my position, by leaning back slowly into the counter and I check my watch.
The edge of the counter top starts to dig into my back, I shift my weight but another time, and I wonder how long it will be before I hook up with my little parsimonious shopper.
My mind slowly wanders off … Little beads of sweat form on my forehead and they roll down my cheeks and drop onto the Army Green container on the floor. I take my trusty pocket tool, the red one, with the toothpick inside, and gingerly start to loosen one screw on the case, it breaks loose slowly and I feel it give way. The red LED clock slowly clicks downward a second at a time. I must get the access door off, and find a way to the inner core, to the explosive element that ignites the nuclear mass of the bomb itself or the weapon will explode, and all of mankind for five square miles will be toast. The door slowly prys open with final screw and the main access panel is there, with all the wiring intact, which I by-pass and instead, go for the igniter of the weapon itself. The Red LED clock is now getting insanely close to running out, and I am frantic.
I silently wish that I had a flashlight and curse under my breath ….
Then her voices breaks the silence, “Here you are. Are you ready?” I nod my head and she says, “I didn’t find nuthin’ you want to go get some Mexican food?” Like a blind man, she takes my arm and starts to lead me toward the exit of the store. “You didn’t find anything you liked either?”
Again, “I nod my head” and we start out for the front doors.
She again stops at the garment rack, and fingers the blouse, I can tell she really wants the blouse. She pauses a little bit and then says. “Let’s go.” I say “Wait here and I will go get the truck, you won’t have to walk in the cold.” On the way out to the parking lot the north wind takes a sharp bite out of the corner of my eye, and sends a shiver up my spine. I get in the truck and I think to myself, “She never gets it?”
You see I might be sixty-five years old, but my LIbido is still very much in place. I am a man, very much so, and thus, I am stimulated not by emotional things, but by visual items. All she had to do was look at me with those big brown eyes, eyes a guy could get lost in, smile and say, “If you buy me this, I will model it for you without my bra.”
I would have bought it in a Hong Kong second …. Fifty-percent off or not.