Window Shoppers

I don't like shopping. I don't dislike it as much as I dislike cooking, but I dislike it nonetheless. More specifically, however, I hate shopping with women.

I have had the unfortunate experience of going out with my sister and mother as they did their shopping. I remember this one time that I went out with them, I walked past this couple in a supermarket just in time to hear the wife say to the husband, "If you want, you can go back in the car you know!" I feel your pain ma brotha.

You see, the problem with shopping women (or simply said, women) is that they either have no idea what they want (which is the worst), or they know too well what they want- a pair of khaki coloured shoes (well, not quite khaki, a little paler) with four or five (no more) thin straps across the toes (but none at the heal), a round front (not a pointed one), and a heal which must be 19.5 milimetres (because 19 is too small and 20 is too long). In the event that they actually find this miracle shoe, size 8 is too tight and size 8.5 is too big. "Somebody shoot me now," is what I'd be thinking. The end result of this pickiness is that women are reduced to mere window shoppers, because they tend to walk out of most stores empty-handed anyway.

My shopping is so much more impulsive, not to mention flexible. I've had the good fortune of having people buy my clothes for years now, but now and again I get my own things. Most times I don't even go into a store with the intention of getting the things I get. But I see them, I like them, I buy them, it's that simple.

So today my mother walked into my room, just as I was waking up, with a big grin on her face as she ambled towards me. Obviously she wanted something. She asked me if I'd go with her to Ocho Rios. I know, from years of experience, that an Ochi trip is a shopping trip. So automatically my resistance kicks in and an almost certain 'no' prepares to eject forcefully from between my lips. But this time, for some reason, I felt like being nice. I know there are very few places she likes to go to alone, and more times than not I'd tell her to find other company. Anyway, I was hoping Gail would be able to come along, just to make the trip less painful. Unfortunately, she couldn't make it.

So off we went to shop, and I really didn't abandon her as I normally would; I followed her into every store, and worked up an opinion when she asked for one. I was as good as a male shopping partner could be. Now I went as company only, had no plans of getting anything. She wasn't very happy because she was looking for a pair of shoes, among other things, but couldn't find much. At the end of the trip, I left with a CD (NOW 17), a travelling bag and a belt. She left with large fries and a drink from Burger King.

If only women were as simple as men.