8:00am
Having planned on visiting The Mart, I was awakened at the obscene hour of 8am on a Sunday, by a woman who got no sleep. This woman was, fortunately, my wife. She has a strict No Dating policy, so it would be difficult to explain the presence of another woman. Or man, I guess. Or dog, as she follows Mommy all over the place, like a cat. Two steps ahead, stop, turn around to make sure she's still there, two more steps, continuing until ultimate destination. She's awful large for a cat.
8:15am
I'm just about ready to leave. At least one of us is.
8:30am
Do you think this dress would be good to wear today?
8:45am
How about these shoes?
I dunno, how about them?
9:00am
Where's my pocketbook? Is my wallet with it?
ONE HOUR.
Whatta you mean one hour?
That's how long it took you to get ready.
It takes me time.
You didn't sleep all night - don't you think you could have been ready at 8, when you woke me up?
We were off. Or so I thought. After I started the car, I noticed a complete lack of wifely person in the passenger seat. 'What,' I thought to myself.... I looked out the window and she was watering plants. And the grass. If you water the crap, they GROW - especially the grass! And you know how I feel about grass. You probably also know we were an hour late to begin with, yet she was watering flowers. Good thing I didn't say anything, lest I get watered. Good thing the window was down.
We were not done, no sir. As we approached the end of the street, there were huge stop signs; the street was closed. WHY DIDN'T ANYBODY TELL ME MY STREET WAS CLOSED? It's a good thing to know, right? So I did the only thing I could; I screamed so loudly, she said I popped a few of her eardrums (don't ask). I was all set to reverse into our driveway, but she convinced me otherwise (threatening mowing).
The Mart
The Mart has a flea market outside and a Mart inside. We did the fleas first, as they closed early. In fact, some of them were closing as we arrived. Now the OCD rears its ugly head. We have to go down one side and back up the other, so we don't miss anything. And just because we did.
About this time I'm again realizing I should have stayed in bed.
I shook my head because the quality, and I use the term loosely, of the merchandise was.... sub-par. This did not stop Wife from purchasing. And purchasing. By the time we were done, we had to make a stop at the car to stow her riches.
I was not amused.
At least the merchandise inside was... a lighter shade of sub-par. I needed a soda. This was not helped by Wife, who still needed to stop in every store and see every piece of merchandise. The only was this could have been worse was if I had to go to the restroom. I got a strawberry slushie, which turned out to be.... way above par. Two stores up there was a video store. I sat outside, as they never have anything I like. I found out later that they had one more concert video, making their total four.
This was not the case with bloody shocking horror movies. So Wife stayed in the shop and I stayed on a bench, with my phone, reading the portable edition of War and Peace. When I was done, I was still alone on the bench. I could have violated the No Dating policy and gone straight to sex, without being noticed. I probably could have raised kids. I suspect she was in the store, doing inventory of every... single... dvd. When she returned, I had grown a rather significant beard and she almost didn't recognize me,
Next was the candy store. It was a ton of plastic bins with candy, and you purchased by weight. It looked like 27 very happy people had arrived. It was better than last time, when Wife leaked strawberry slushie down every aisle. I could always figure out where she was by the red liquid. She had to see every bin, even if she didn't like the candy. As big a fan of sugar I am, I didn't find much, except for some Hot Balls (don't even) that can wreck your mouth. Most of The Mart stopped taking cards, preferring cash or Venmo, due to the extra card fees... interesting. Sad, without Venmo.
So we started the last leg of The Mart, desperate for coffee (and a really good back massage or oral sex). Wife gave up, due to her bad back, and told me she'd be out at Exit 3, waiting for me to get my coffee and get her with the car. When I asked the coffee lady if they had any dark roast. she had to call her supervisor in. Supervisor said, "A little." Gee, thanks, maybe I'll get some watered down light roast instead. I'm sure there's some salted caramel. Wife tasted it later and said it tasted watered down. We're spoiled by Peet's.
Every store. Every item. When I stood there, unimpressed, she kept asking me what was wrong. I kept telling her it was a good thing murder was still illegal.
I sat outside exit 3, waiting. And waiting. Bless technology, I could call her, and I did.
"I'm waiting for you."
Well, dear, I'm at exit 3, waiting for you.
"I'm at exit 19. I told you."
We have some sort of invisible character called I Told You. I know this because Wife is always Telling Me something or other that I 'forgot' or 'didn't listen to her about."
Strangely, if you talk to I Told You, you're never wrong in an argument.
Oh.
Did we get anything good?
Nah. But we got a lot of it.
Actually she got a bag that said Emotional Baggage on one side and on the other, Assholes Never Die.
That might have been worth the drive, but not the wait.
Have you seen this guy's movies? Imagine something more depressing...
Inside the U.S. Government-Bought Tool That Can Track Phones at Abortion Clinics
This is sick, even if you don't like abortion,
Throne’s toilet camera takes pictures of your poop
This is not a joke.
