Sunday, December 30, 2007

Megamart Man Casserole

I was shopping at the local supermarket for New Year's Eve dinner (I'm having a party!), and I noticed that the store was filled was a lot more men than usual. Some of them looked like they were just transported to a world with too many choices and no game plan. Because let's face it: you need a game plan when you go grocery shopping. 

So it dawned on me that The Whoaman Collective probably said to her hubby, "I've done Thanksgiving! I've done Christmas! To heck with New Year's! You want something special? You want ANYTHING! You go to the market!" (Notice the exclamations! That's what women tend to do when they decide to Whoa. I mean all you have to do is look around at their faces. There's a certain expression that says if I have to grab some goopy stuffing and stick it into some animal's cold dank cavity one more time this year, I'm gonna to ...) 

So back at the megamart, there was hubby, sometimes alone, sometimes with kids, sometimes acting like a kid, twirling the cart, buying the children pop tarts, basically swimming around in air. Yes, this is what happens to men who go shopping twice a year at the grocery store. It was impossible to maneuver up or down the aisles, so I just parked the cart at the end and journeyed forth by foot. 

In a moment when I wished I had my camera - someday I'm going to learn - the men were lined up on the chips aisle, leaning back with weight on one leg, bellies forward, pondering the collection. Hmm, Ruffles, Tostitos, yeah, both, extra large size. Nobody can tell me how to spend my money.

Beer aisle was much different. Get outta my way. Two cases of Bud. Two cases of Bud Light. 

And now let's consider the meat department. He was on the cell with his better half. It's much better to call her and let her decide. He better not make any decisions by himself anyways. I mean she did give him written instructions, but he thinks you never know. He sure wouldn't want to have to come back to the store because he misunderstood her or her hand-typed list. She might have even said when he went out the door, "Oh Honey, it doesn't matter. Just get what you want." But when he gets home, he knows what she will say, "What is this crap! Can't you do anything right?!"

Hey it's okay. I understand. In fact, I feel strength for you. So to overhear all the possible choices of beef roasts from the guy with a phone in his ear, all I can say is I hope you have A Very Happy New Year! (And by the way, all the meat is crap at the Megamart.)

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