Shopping. It's about freedom. The freedom to say "Hey! I want this! You there, hired underling! Examine my piece of pressed plastic. I will be taking this item here. It brings me great joy." That dear friends is what shopping is about, freedom and superiority. That's what our founding fathers fought for. Wow, maybe I should save this blog for next Wednesday. Don't worry, I'll do something cool then; this blog doesn't end quite as happily as the American Revolution, but the body count is pretty close.
See, my shopping freedom has been suspended. There is no joy in Robville for MyWife has shadowed me with doubt. See that? She's compromised my hunting gathering skills, and left me to slaughter American classics. Yeah, that was me pissing all over Casey at the Bat. Didn't recognize it? I understand, it's just as well…
Sigh…
Shopping and freedom. Here's the thing. We're not rich, but together we do pretty well. We can go out for dinner without worrying about the electricity being turned off before we get home. Alone, we're a mess. I've reworked my new budget so many times; it still laughs at me.
"But I'm just paying mortgage utilities and buying groceries."
"Not gonna happen." See? My budget talks…so do all inanimate things in my life. I suppose that could explain the divorce…
Scrawling a number on a piece of paper, I slide it toward my budget, "What if I spend this much on food?"
It lifts the paper's corner and rolls out of it's chair.
There's a pause while it laughs.
More laughing.
More pausing.
Ok, it's better now. "Look, you'd have to return groceries to pay for everything else." Budget slides the paper back. Try again."
"What if I hunted my own food?"
The budget lifts it's brow, "you're not a hunter."
"No, but I can learn. Starvation sets a rigorous learning curve."
"This is California, even the tree squirrels are protected. What are you going to hunt?"
I think for a bit. It's a good point. Then it hits me. I have an idea, "Strays."
"pets?"
"no, strays."
"I don't think your neighbors' kids are going to see the difference between unloading a firearm at 'Fluffy' or 'anonymous poodle.'"
"I wouldn't do that. Poodles don't have much meat. Besides, I'm stealthy. I have a spear!"
Shaking it's head my budget just stands and walks away. Looking back, there's a tear in his eye, "I remember when you had dignity." He turns and leaves.
Dignity, that's something else I can't afford anymore. Do you know I now have to regulate what I buy by "can I consume it before she leaves?" Is that dignity? Last weekend I stood in the grocery store liquor aisle thinking "Pomegranate liqueur? That sounds tasty! Oh wait. I'd never finish it and then WyWife will just take it with her."
I told you before, it's not about the stuff. She can take what she wants, but I'm not buying her any more gifts. I was in Target looking at pizza cutters thinking "I need one, but so does she. I'll wait." That's how I shop now. I can't buy anything she might want to keep. It has nothing to do with what I need; it has everything to do with not wanting to give it to her. I'm paralyzed with spite. Even the hired underling is laughing at me as he tugs on the quart of Jack he's not splitting with an ex-wife.
Yet other shopping that used to be fun is now a necessity. Yesterday I went out and bought a new cell phone because we're on a "share" plan. She's said she wants the phone number, I said I didn't care. So I went shopping.
It's been a few years since I bought a phone, but things have changed since I've been gone: when did cell phones turn into the Swiss army knife of the electronics world? Do you know what I need my phone to do?
Make and receive calls when I'm not home.
Know what else my new phone does?
It takes pictures.
It holds mp3s.
It'll sing to me whatever song I want when somebody calls me.
It's got a colander.
A flash
A spot for a memory card.
Support every Bluetooth device known to man.
It slices, it dices it—
you get the idea.
All those features were on the freebie phone. I didn't get the freebie. If I'm gonna get a phone I might as well get one I like. One that say's "I'm Rob" in great glorious glowing letters. Not in a "Dirk Diggler" kind of way; more like tasteful, man about town type thing. I may be broke, but I don't want to advertise it. If I waited until Friday, I could have bought an iphone, but $600 seems a little steep to say "look what I got."
No, I got something with some cool, but nothing too cool. When I found what I wanted, I clapped my hands, calling to the servant girl saying, "You there, hired—" I stopped. Her left hand supported a small but tasteful diamond. The type that says "young newlywed."
"Excuse me Miss, could I please have get this phone?" Those were the words from my lips. The words in my brain were these: May you never have to alter your shopping habits for the dire whim of another.
My first phone picture! Say "Hi" to my pony pal Pokey!
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