SHOPPING WITH THE WIFE > > One of the most delicate operations that any husband is called to perform is > to go shopping for clothes with his wife. This task is infinitely more > skilful than any complicated heart surgery. > > It begins innocuously enough with a simple question, Darling, dont you > think that this dress looks faded? You look over the sports section of the > newspaper trying to look interested. This is a very dangerous stage. If you > say something like Who cares? or Huh? Get new spectacles. then you have > had it. The home is immediately converted into a battlefield. The correct > (and only response) to this question is to look sagaciously at the near > brand new dress, squint here and there and nod wisely saying, Ye-ah! Now > that you mention it, I think it really is faded. > > I thought so. Let us go buy a new one. > > Suddenly, like one of those innocent bystanders in a terrorist shoot out, > you find yourself in the thick of things. You can object to the word us, > and you can squirm and try to hide behind the newspaper, but it is of no > use. All wives consider dragging their husband to a garment sale their > birthright. > > As an afterthought the wife adds, Anyway you had nothing important to do. > Just as your mind is running over the huge list of really important things > beginning with lounging on the sofa with the remote in one hand and a cold > beer in the other, the wife lays out your clothes and tells you to hurry up. > This is the only time that you really welcome an emergency call, and this is > the only time that the telephone remains mute. > > The journey to the garment shop is full of a monologue on how she had worn > the same dress for a party way back in 2002. You bite your tongue while you > nearly remind her that the year 2002 is still not done with. There is no use > telling her that you have the same dress for the past decade. She will only > say that it proves what a tasteless and lazy insect you are. > > Are all garment salesmen slimy? At least all the ones I have seen are. The > salesman greets you with a wide smile, showing you his third molars. It is > at a clothes shop that you learn that there are such things as English > colours. In England, people wear drab greys and blacks, but in India, > English colours mean all other colours except these. > > When the shopkeeper explains that the dress is of Chutni colour, you > nearly ask him to specify if it is garlic, coconut or mint. When the wife > lingers over some brightly coloured kurtas, the salesman immediately > compliments her on her bold choice of bright colours. When she fingers some > lighter shades, he promptly praises her subtle taste for pastel hues, which > will bring radiance to her complexion. > > There is much information passed back and forth about Crepe and China Silk > and Tussar and various other high-flown names, which you do not have an > inkling about. In all this complex procedure, your role is just to nod > knowingly now and then. > > You can of course, eye the pretty, young thing trying out the sari near by, > but this is to be done with caution. If the salesman pitch fails to catch > the wifes imagination, she might catch you red handed, and cruelly remind > you that you are that girls fathers age. On the other hand, you can > observe the girls mother and see what the girl will look like after a few > ravaging years. You will then see the girl with new eyes, and have sympathy > for the poor unsuspecting bridegroom, who does not know what lays in store > for him a few children hence. The best bet, however, is to catch the eye of > a neighbouring husband, who is also twiddling his thumbs, and smile > sympathetically like a co-sufferer. > > The crucial test and the raison d etre of your presence comes now. The wife > holds up a red dress and a yellow one and asks you which looks good on her. > This is a very difficult time for any husband. He has to appear very > judicious and thoughtful. The fact that males do not care much for any > colour, as long as what is underneath is in good shape, must be carefully > hidden. (This is much like showing a red rag to a bull. The bull is > colour-blind, yet the matador persists in showing him the red rag. No wonder > he gets so mad!) > > You must take some time in answering this question. If you answer promptly, > you are sure to get caustic remarks like You have no colour sense! or > There is no use asking you. You just come to ogle at the girls! Remember > that you cannot retaliate by saying that you did not come voluntarily at > all. > > You have to tap your lips and squint your eyes before answering. Then you > say, I think ... may be ... just hold it this way, please .. Ahhhh . nearer > the light .. Yeah ... the yellow one seems good. > > But the red one matches my new jewellery. > > Just what I was going to say. The yellow one looks good in the shop, but in > natural light, go for the red! > > However, I do not have a yellow dress, but I have two red ones. > > Exactly! Though the red one has its points, the yellow one brings out your > complexion. > > Meanwhile, the slimy salesman is giving you a complacent sneer. He has seen > many husbands squirm like this before. > > The wife holds both the dresses towards her and looks in the mirror. I dont > like the fall of these. Lets go to another shop. You stare incredulously. > Forty-five minutes down the drain. You wearily trudge to another shop to > repeat the process. > > If, at the end of the day, you have managed to stifle your endless yawns and > appeared intelligent, then you will be rewarded with a sumptuous dinner. > Otherwise, God help you. > > At the next party, when your wifes girl friend says that the new dress does > not suit her all that much, she turns around and tells you, I told you that > this Rani colour will not go with my skin, but you would not listen! > > All you can think at this stage is, Wha.? What the #*&*^% is Rani colour? > Then you realize why wives need husbands for shopping - to shoulder the > blame, of course!
Posted on: Wed, 26 Mar 2014 20:24:12 +0000
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