Bob Shops

Terri has guilt-tripped me into going to the supermarket. Alone. Generally this falls under her chores. Sexist it may be, but there you have it. She doesn't do weeding. I do. Maybe it's the view of the world I inherited from my parents in the 50s... my mother shopped. Come to think of it, my dad didn't weed. Nor did he drive a car. Don't get me started!

Now the thing I have noticed in my dash-in-for-one-thing visits in the past or when I might go with Terri on those rare eclipse-days, is that men don't belong. They all seem so lost. That's because we ARE lost. Women are ticked because we are contra-flow - so who knew you are supposed to go UP this aisle and DOWN that one? (And why?)

Guys will be found staring at the tomato paste section with blank looks of the hopelessly confused.

Guys will squeeze fruit, smile, and remember that high school moment... you know the one.

Guys will bring home many (more) things NOT ON THE LIST (and they will hear about it.)

Guys will buy UNAUTHORIZED versions of what's on the list, swayed by packaging or not paying any attention to the list's brand names. Lured by price or seduced by some primal urge, we'll fail.

Guys will avoid direct eye contact with other guys. Shame?

No guy shops in a cowboy hat.

Some guys like to cook and know what they are doing in the store. I forgive them and figure their chemistry-set gene went wrong and became a gumbo gene. Or they are aliens.

Guys will take several samples of anything sampled if it smells good.

Stores cater to women. There are old granny women behind all samples, but, if replaced by babes, would sell enormous quantities of whatever to the guys who might happen by. They will then eat HANDFULS of whatever it is, just to linger. They will look at the babes like puppys look at bones. They will discuss food they wouldn't normally eat.

Note to men: SOMEONE I KNOW WELL has deliberately tried screwing up the list in order to never be handed this duty again. It didn't work.