Trouble writing…!


I can’t believe it’s been 15 days since I last wrote anything into my corner of the internet. And what a 15 days it has been.


First let’s follow up on the car. Yes, I finally got a call back from the Lexus dealer. The used car they had told me about never came in and (according to the salesman) it wasn’t really as good deal as he originally told me… But wait! As luck should have it… they had another one arrive just a few hours earlier… and “its mint”. I met the wife at the dealership for the test drive and as we putted around (no way to really go very fast in Seattle rush hour traffic so I think putted is the appropriate word) I pretty much concluded that unless there was a great price on this car… I was going to try and work a deal on the new one. Bottom line… the used car wasn’t a deal… I did negotiate a pretty good deal on a new one… and now I have more cars than garage space. So that’s the story of the car.


Next up… Christmas Shopping. There were only a few days left before Christmas and I finally got my wife to give me the traditional “list”. Most of it was your basic stuff… golf balls, sweaters, CD’s, DVD’s, etc… But then I saw it… fourth item down the list… Nightgown! Immediately visions of the Victoria’s Secret commercials started swimming in my head, as I said to myself “This is going to be fun!” So there I was… standing in front of Victoria’s Secret… when this feeling came over me. I looked around. Could it be that members of the Moral Majority were discreetly hidden… watching and taking names of all the men venturing into the store? Was that the click of a camera I heard? Nah… couldn’t be. So in I went. Suddenly it was if every eye in the place was watching me. “Hey! What’s the fat guy doing in here?” I moved carefully around the store… as in careful not to get caught staring at one of these scantily clad mannequins. Not that I was staring… honestly I was just looking for something sexy to buy the wife. There’s no harm in that. Finally I found my way to the back of the store. Moving behind a rack of clothes I finally felt as though I’d just landed on a “safe” square. Free to look without persecution. Hmmm… this is kind of nice, I thought as I looked at the tag. But I was not prepared for what I saw. 34B! Now I can buy sizes with letters such as S, XS, or PS… but put a number in front of it like 34 and I’m lost. Add a letter like “B” and I’m really lost. I broke into a cold sweat… people were once again starting to stare… I had to get out of there. Quickly I moved to the door. Now as I again moved through the store, many thoughts went through my mind. I can’t be the only man with this problem… Would the saleslady be offended if I said “they’re a bit like yours, what size are you?” Maybe they have a room full of mannequins were men can go and cup their hands over a plastic breast until they find the one that seems right. Maybe you just buy the one that you know is too big… kinda like guessing a woman’s age and always being on the low side of what you really think. I don’t really know… But I hope she likes the second box of golf balls I got her!