Off to the Mall
By JoanKaufman on November 21, 2011
I hate Black Friday. On black Friday I avoid the mall like the plague, no pun intended. So when my husband said he needed new glasses and wanted me to help pick them out, I insisted we shop for them NOW! So off we went.
I’m not saying my husband is a control freak, however, he generally insists on driving. I’m not sure if he actually hates my driving or if he just feels uncomfortable in the passenger seat. Perhaps it’s the way I like to slow down when I see a red light so I can see if it will turn green without me ever having to come to a complete stop that pisses him off. It’s kind of a game I play. I don't see anything wrong with that. It drives him nuts. Maybe that’s it. And he can’t stand how I click on my turn signal sooner than he would. I like to give the drivers behind me fair notice. What’s wrong with that? Nothing. I shouldn’t have to justify my methods. He should be used to it by now. I don’t drive the way he would. Ok, I digress. At least I don’t put makeup on while driving. Shouldn’t I get points for that? Where was I?
Oh yea. Driving to the mall. Although he loves driving, he hates parking. Or perhaps I should say he hates searching for a parking space at a crowded mall. He also hates having to make left turns but I’m not going there now. Since I knew this time of year, with Christmas decorations already starting to twinkle while I obsessively hum All I Want for Christmas is You, he'd welcome my driving. So I did.
“Ohmigod”, I declared. “A spot!” I was thrilled that without even having to circle the lot, or drive up and down the aisles, I scored prime real estate! Waiting patiently for the SUV to back out we discussed our plan of attack at the mall. First things first, we’d get his glasses at the one hour place since he needs them immediately. Next, while the glasses would be processing, we’d head off to Macy's so I could finally use that id="mce_marker"2.46 gift certificate balance I've been carrying around since last Christmas season. Our plan was set. Easing in to the parking space in one motion, no backing in and out to straighten out the car like I usually do, I was proud of myself. So was my husband who usually enjoys a good laugh at my expense pointing out how I always park crooked.
The glasses part was fairly easy. He chose glasses very similar to our sons’ glasses, since they never fail to remind us how much more trendy they are than we ever were or ever could be. Maybe they will approve this time. It’s getting real old being teased about age. Need we remind them that their diapers were not all that stylish? Ok, we won't go there.
After the glasses, Macy's, then a quick trip to Target for some manly deodorant, (and an ice cream cone for me, but who’s counting) we declared: mission accomplished. Ready to go home, we head out the exit doors. Spotting my car we wondered why there was a line of cars apparently waiting for my spot. They couldn’t have been waiting for me since they didn’t know we were leaving yet. Oh, they were queued up for the space next to us. That made more sense. Like the Pied Piper we headed toward our vehicle with more cars following us, hoping to be first in line for our prized parking space, all the while I’m thinking how next week, Black Friday, will surely be a nightmare. I noticed I wouldn’t be able to enter on my side because the car next to mine had its passenger door wide open. As I go over to ask the boy if he could please close his door so I can get in I'm stopped dead in my tracks by the biggest grin and the sound of pouring water. No, not water. He was PEEING next to MY CAR. In public! WTF! Yuck! We just left a mall with wall to wall restrooms and someone is peeing next to my car!! Gross. After holding my breath and hopping over the puddle to dive into my driver’s seat I hightailed it the heck out of that place.
"Disgusting," we both gag in unison. With his signature grin my husband adds, “You wanted to drive. And you found a great parking space.”
“Shut up sweetheart,” I smile back at him. “Just pick a place for dinner.” Pause. “Forget it. I lost my appetite.”
What do you think? Would you have said something?
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