To be honest, I don't like shopping. I like having new stuff, but I don't like the process of acquiring them - I can't deal with waiting in lines and shoving amongst people and trying on stuff and waiting in lines some more. My mantra is eBay or no way, basically. I guess working alone from home has left its mark on me, meaning I've developed a level of social anxiety. Well, not anxiety per se, because I'm not anxious (although I'll claim otherwise to a doctor if it'll get me a Xanax or two), it's more of an annoyance, I get social annoyance. Anyhow, I still go to shops from time to time and my recent trip entailed accompanying my boyfriend to a local drugstore to get some facial wash.
I don't know if you've gathered this by now (and you really should have, since this is the already 12th Things My Boyfriend Doesn't Like post), but I have a very opinionated and picky boyfriend. When it comes to everything. Even facial washes. After we'd been in the frigging store for 2.7 days (13 minutes in real time), I started trying on lipsticks out of desperation. Just to clarify things, I don't wear lipsticks. I have 4 of them, because I think they're pretty, but I don't wear them. That's how desperate I was. Then the saleswoman came along and asked me:
"Do you need any assistance?"
"I'm just trying these on to kill time. I'm waiting for my boyfriend. To decide. On a facial wash."
"Oh, ok. I thought you might need some help, because you were browsing around like you're looking for something."
"No, no, I'm not. I'm just waiting. I don't know why it's taking him so long."
"Is he always this slow?"
"No. Not always." Pause for a moment's reflection. Then she got it and started laughing. My boyfriend, who heard me, didn't.
I can't say what she thought or what you think I meant, but I was talking about this - he certainly isn't slow to judge, especially my wardrobe. Fine. Judge. I couldn't care less. Because you know what? In the words of the great Filippo Giove from Jerseylicious: When you point your finger, there are 3 more pointing right back at you. And if you ask me, these are some pretty clever words for a man who looks as good as he does in a thong. Which my boyfriend would be extremely quick, light speed quick, to judge, of course.
Aside from Filly in a thong, he passed some judgment about the following three of my items and showed no mercy when commenting on them. But much to his disappointment, whether he thinks they're inglorious or not doesn't have much of an effect on me. Or any at all. So here they are:
For some reason, I wanted an understated flowy spaghetti strap top and was very happy to find one extra cheap at H & M. But apparently it's a bit too understated for my boyfriend's liking. "That's like something they wore during the Second World War. No, even worse. That's something grandmas during the Second World War wore." Obviously describing a piece of clothing as something 'a grandma would wear' is the ultimate sartorial insult.
For some other reason, I also wanted a mesh long t-shirt/dress and luckily found one (also in H & M) on sale for €5 ($7, £4). When I pulled it out of the bag during our ride home from the store and showed it to him, he just rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything. So I had to ask:
"WHAT?? What's wrong with this?!"
Since he didn't like the fur vest I already showed you, it's really no surprise he hated this bag the first time its soft fuzzy hairs caressed his eyeballs.
"Oh god... Did you steal Mrs. Cousin It's bag?"
"No. I've adopted their baby," I replied, cradling the bag. "Wanna hold it?" Then I looked down at the bag safely tucked in my arms: "Wanna meet your dada?" He just sighed, did a 180 and left. Just like a real dada. "See, little It, he learned fast. They learn so fast."
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