Shopping with a Woman

As far as I can tell, there are two distinct styles of shopping:  My Style of shopping, or The Regular, Normal Way to Shop, and there is Shopping with a Woman.  Let me first explain to you My Style of shopping.  I need to buy something for, say, my mother for Christmas.  If I haven’t seen something earlier in the year and already picked it up, then I must go to the mall.

I drive to the mall and park in the first open spot I see.  I walk into Macy’s.  I see a top that I think my mother would like.  I find the size, walk to the register, wait my turn, make my purchase and exit into the mall.  I walk along the promenade, marvel at the sparkly lights; maybe get a cup of coffee.  I sit on a bench and watch shoppers pass.  Maybe I get a sample at See’s Candy.  I walk past the Santa and notice the line of excited children, enjoy the screams of a toddler who is forced upon Santa’s lap and smile inwardly as his parents try to calm him for a picture.  Soon I stroll back out of the mall and across the lot to my car.  Then I drive home and, perhaps, take a nap.

This past Christmas, I had the rapturous enjoyment of Shopping with A Woman.

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“Honey, we need to pick up a present for your Mom.  Would you like to go to the mall?”

I said, “I got her the new Tony Bennett CD.”

“But I want to get her a top or two.  I think she’d like a change of pace, something new.”

“OK.” I shrugged.  “I haven’t seen the decorations at the mall yet.  We can pick up something for my mom and then I think it would be fun to look at Christmas with you.”  That’s what I call looking at all the lights and trees and decorations: Looking at Christmas.

We found a parking place rather quickly and in no time we were in Macy’s.  She led, I followed.

“Here’s something!”  Do you think she’d like this?!”

“Yeah.  Sure,” I said.  “I think she’s a medium.”

“Well, that’s not always the case.  With some makes the cut isn’t the same and they fit differently.”

top 1“OK.  Well, that looks like it would fit her.”

“Oh!  What about this one?!”


“See how it would fit her well for her size?!”

“Uh, well…”

“Wait!  This one is perfect!”

“Perfect.  Yes.”

“See?!  She can wear this with a pair of black pants and it’s a little dressy-looking!”

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“Where are you going?”

“To the register.”

“We need to get her a pair of black pants.”

“I think she has a pair of black pants.”

“We can’t get her a top and not get her pants to go with it!”

“I don’t know what I was thinking.”  I follow her deep into the Women’s Department; a place to which I have never been.  In my life, I’ve only shopped the outskirts and had no idea what was in store for me.

“Here!  Look at this!”

“Perfect.  Let’s get it”

“Do you know her size?”


“You don’t know?”

“I got her a Tony Bennett CD.  One size fits all.”

“Text your sister and ask her.”

I do.  “She says she’s a petite.”

top 2“I thought so.”

“Then why did I text my sister?”

“Wait… Look at this pair…”

“That’s the same pair.”

“No, silly.  These are black.  These are charcoal.”


“Yes!  I like these much better.”

“Me, too.”  Whew!  Done!

“Yes, the charcoal…. Where are you going?”

“To the register.”



“This top doesn’t go with these pants!  We need to find another top!”

And back we went.  She went through stand after stand.

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Click here to Order the Kindle edition!

“Do you like this one?”


“Do you like this one?”


“Do you like this one?”


“Wait!  Look at this one! See how the cut of the reevfellver makes the kloovery blant look more flattering?”

“Uh… sure.”

“A lot of manufactures stopped this style in the 80’s.  A lot of women stopped wearing them so low across the waist and they stopped cutting the reevfellver as close to the kloovery blant and then the holventriber was gathered in the volmetritude.”

“Of course.”

“Do you think she’d look good in this red and black one with the kloovery blant cut at this angle or the orange and gray in the more traditional dolfadder bloik?”

“I… uhhh… red?”

“Yes.  This orange!  Let’s go find some pants to go with it.”

“We have the charcoal pants.”

She gives me an exasperated sigh.  “A dolfadder bloik cut with these charcoal pants?!?!  Don’t you see how the waist of these pants has an indroiple reeversid?  A dolfadder bloik would cause the material to gather in clumps over the indroiple reeversid!”


“You’re kidding, right?  You’d walk around with all of those wrinkles?!”


“Men!  You don’t have to worry about any of this!”

“Did you hear the Yankees signed Youkilis for one season?”

“Wait!  Look at this top!  She’d love this top!”


“Let’s see if they have her size… they do!  Do you think she would wear this as every day or does it look more like something for the evening?”

top 3“I’m sleeping with your cousin.”

“Let’s get this one!”


“Where are you going?”

“Not to the frapping register, that much I know…”

“I saw some pants over in the Liz Dorfmeyer section that would be perfect.  They are a gray/gold as opposed to a gray/tan.”

“I secretly communicate with toads.”

“Your mother is a winter so I’m not sure that shade would work, though…”

“I like to pretend my liver is a flying saucer.”

“But we’d need to get her a shell to go with this…”

“I ate all the lug nuts off your car.”

“Where did we see that very first top we looked at?”

“I’m married to John Wayne and Obama is our love child.”

“That was over by the Jennifer Wong department.  Run and grab that one, too.  I think it’ll go well with the Liz Dorfmeyer pants.  Hurry!”

Hurry?  We were in that store for more than four hours!  My feet hurt.  My head hurt.  We looked at ten thousand tops and eight thousand pants.  We did buy something for my mom.  I do not know what it was.  I’m sure the fleeberedoo cut of the top matched perfectly with the plankstateriven of the pants.  Unless we decided against pants and went with two tops.  I honestly can’t remember.

We never got to see Christmas lights in the mall.  We didn’t leave Macy’s for almost five hours.  Five hours for a frapping shirt!  By that point I was too hungry and surly for anything.  I fantasized about lighting a sacrificial pyre of Jennifer Wong clothing and hurling myself thereupon.  I had visions of the kiddy train from the mall going haywire and crashing through a wall, ending my joyful shopping experience in a pile of twisted wreckage.   I wondered what it would be like to yell “Seventy-five percent off!” then throw myself under the ensuing stampede.  Hurry?!

“Hurry!  We still need to find a necklace to go with this!”

Do I hear the kiddy train?

Bill sig blue

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2 Responses to Shopping with a Woman

  1. Constance Tarro says:

    HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ……………………………


    OMG. Bill, I am SO with you on this one….I’d rather clean the litter boxes than shop!! FOR THIS EXACT REASON! Hahahahahaha!!!!

    Oh.. if you can’t tell……I LOVED this one and, it cracked me up!! Frappin’ hilarious!

    • Bill Kasal says:

      That’s funny, Connie, but I don’t believe you. You are a woman and therefore MUST shop! Thanks for the compliment, though!

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