I was in a shoe shop with a former girlfriend not so long ago.

Not remarkable in itself, I admit.
What was remarkable was looking at all the other blokes in the shop who were obviously dragged there by their women.

We all wore the same weary expression.
Knowing looks were exchanged, nods swapped.

I could feel their pain.

My woman was in the process of trying on various pairs of shoes, asking my opinion on each one, even though she knows I am useless at this.

If I liked women’s shoes that much, I’d be wearing them.
My response was carefully measured.

“They’re ok.”

This non-committal answer wasn’t enough to save me, however.

“What do you mean Ok?”

“I mean they’re Ok,” I said. “If you like them, buy them.”

“You don’t like them, do you?”

Somehow my woman had managed to tell me both what my opinion was, and ask me what my opinion was.
No mean feat…

Ever consistent, I mumbled, “They’re ok.”

To deflect from an impending domestic, I picked up a shiny gold pair. “How about these?”

She gave me a look that could only be described as withering.

“They’d make me look like a hooker.”

I considered telling her that hookers are people too, but decided not to.

At this point she tried on yet another pair of shoes.

I say “pair,” but women have a strange habit of trying on one shoe.

So there she was, walking around with her own shoe on one foot, and the shop’s shoe on the other.
She asked me what I thought.
She really wanted a response considering she was hobbling around in odd shoes?

“Hmmm,” she said, “It’s not my size, but I can make it fit.”

So not only is she wearing odd shoes, but one of those is a size too small.

I suspected I’d be here for the long haul.
At this point, I wanted a chair, and a newspaper.
A beer wouldn’t go amiss either.

Why don’t they have comfy sofas in women’s clothes shops?
That way, men could have a lie down while the women descended on the merchandise.

Me?

Shopping is a necessity – a chore to be undertaken when those much-loved jeans you’ve had for ten years begin to let in a breeze that they previously didn’t.

To some women, shopping is a business, an activity to be relished, looked forward to, even.

Why go to a few shops in the high street when you can spend several hours visiting them all?

Like I said, the ways of women are often mysterious….

Copyright © Mark A. McPherson 2012.
All rights reserved.