Malled to Death

Did you ever notice how women can make a quick trip to the grocery store an all-day event? Somehow picking up a loaf of bread and a dozen eggs takes considerably more reflection and contemplation than one (male) could imagine. The other night I waited in the car for over an hour - that's right, one hour - while my wife went to pick up a few things in Walmart. The gasoline prices went up three times at their gas station while I was waiting.
So, when my wife asked me to go with her to the mall, I knew I was in for an all-day outing. Not wanting to remain in the car with temperatures soaring close to 200 degrees, I decided to do the next worst thing, actually go in the store with her.
For women, shopping for clothes is a multi-sensory experience. They have to feel everything. I'd get arrested if I shopped for clothes like my wife does.
I just wanted a place to sit down, but let me tell you, chairs are few and far between in most department stores. I did try sitting in the shoe department for a while, but I get so tired of having the salesmen try and take my shoes off and measure my feet. What's with that? And I'm talking about the tire salesmen from the auto supplies store out in the parking lot.
I was able to spend about an hour in the ladies shoe area resting while my wife experienced every shoe in the store. And what's this with women and shoes. Why do they need more than two pair at a time? I've never had more than two pair of dress shoes, and I make each pair last well belong their years. I'm wearing a pair of black loafers now that squeak so badly that gastro-intestinal specialists come up to me in public and offer their services.
Speaking of finding a place to sit down, I did see a nice, comfortable-looking, stuffed chair in the women's clothing area, and stood around about five minutes waiting for the lady who was sitting there to leave. Finally, I notice, that's no lady, it's a manaquin. Now that really steams me. They can't provide seats for shoppers, but they can for dummies.
While I was hanging out in the women's clothing section, I did make one observation that somewhat baffles me. I was near the clothes for, how shall I say it, older women. Can someone tell me why in the name of all that's logical, would a manufacturer name a line of clothing for the senior ladies Sag Harbor? Isn't that just adding insult to injury.
And, while we're talking about senior clothing, please ladies, don't buy those crinkly, expandable waist-line pants. They just scream, "Hey,m I'm fat and I'm too old to suck it in."
Don't give up! As long as I have an ounce of strength and a shred of muscle I'm going to keep sucking it in. If need be, buy a belt, but ditch the spandex.
Of course, I'm just offering one man's opinion. Maybe I just haven't reached the age where I find blue-haired ladies in stretch pants all that fetching. Personally, I'd just as soon not live that long.
But, I have found a way to make those fleeing final years last a little longer. Spend a few hours at the mall with your wife. You'll swear it's an eternity.