Shop 'til you drop

To mention men and shopping in the same breath is something of an oxymoron. Granted, there are some men who actually enjoy shopping, and I say, God bless 'em if they do! But that minority has unfortunately been saddled with the not-all-that flattering handle "metrosexual," and they face an uphill battle in the overall realm of protecting their masculinity.

The fact remains that the only thing most men hate worse than going shopping is - going shopping for their wives.

There are few sights sadder than a well-intentioned husband ranging up and down the aisles of a store trying to discover - without having to ask - the origin of some feminine product on his wife's list.

I encountered one such man in the cosmetics department of a local store a couple of weeks ago, and I could tell by the frantic look in his eyes that he was in trouble right out of the chute.

"Anything I can help with?" I offered in as offhand a manner as I could muster.

"Wellllll," he began tentatively. "My wife said she needs Oil of Olay facial cleanser - but I never realized there were so many different kinds!" he moaned.

I offered to help him search.

"Here's a bottle right here!" I pointed out.

"Oh, by the way," he was quick to add, "she mentioned it has to be the anti-aging formula...."

And so, our mutual search began all over again.

"Ah ha!" I cried, rising to the challenge. "Here it is - anti-aging formula facial cleanser!"

Gratefully, the man grabbed the bottle of cleanser, before suddenly backing off and confessing, "Oh, that's right - my wife said she wants the unscented anti-aging formula facial cleanser. And she said it has a giant number seven on the label," he added helpfully.

I narrowed my eyes, steeled my determination and glanced at shelf upon shelf of skin care products. Every one of them had the giant number seven on the label, and every one of them started to look very much alike....

"I think I'd better just go home and tell her to come in and get it herself," the young man declared in utter defeat.

"Oh no!" I exclaimed. "It's gotta be here somewhere...."

Restlessly, my eyes scanned the shelves and the many facial products before us. About to give up, my eyes suddenly landed upon a product that declared it was anti-aging, unscented - and had the giant number seven on the front of the label!

"I found it!" I cried with inordinate glee.

The young man stared at me in delight, and mentally, we gave each other a high five.

"Thank you SO much!" he declared, as he grabbed the bottle and prepared to head for the checkout. "I really appreciate your help."

"I'm sure it will make her gorgeous...." I proclaimed in the elation of the moment.

He gave me a happy, almost giddy, grin in return - and then he was gone.

I smiled to myself and walked away, contemplating the moment with great satisfaction, realizing my reputation as a top-notch shopper was still intact.

I had almost navigated all the way to the end of the aisle when I slowed my pace, looked back and contemplated for a moment.

And then, I walked back and picked up a bottle of the lotion for myself....

Columnist Wendy Johnson can be contacted at: wjohnson@pinejournal.com .