I hate shopping, this i cannot deny. No man can deny this. The only shopping I can tolerate is the weekly tour to the food market just for the mere but plausible reason that I mind what I eat. When it comes to shopping for clothes I am much happier if am counted out. Funny thing is that much as i complain i still find myself tagging along with my wife to torture myself in an activity that she derives much pleasure from. Once we are through i even swear never to accompany her again; but love prevails again and there I am, tagging along like a loving, caring husband who cares a lot about colors and material and designs.
First, there is a huge difference between the ways we guys shop and how women do their thing. With us it’s very simple; I know I need a few shirts, jeans, a pair of sneakers, socks maybe and that’s it. I know where to get them and at what price. I know my vendor by name and he alerts me when new stuff is around so mostly it’s just a matter of picking.
For a man, shopping for clothes is rather simple, it’s like an in and out navy SEAL gig with nothing much to write home about. We don’t even break a sweat while at it coz it’s something we can even do while out of the office briefly for a cup of coffee.
Our women on the other hand take it, understandably so, to a whole new level regardless of the fact that they have already seen the product before and they know the price. They will still want to pop into seventeen other shops stocking the same goods at relatively the same price only to end up back at shop number one. After they make the purchase, they remember seeing a good scarf in shop number twelve and they go all the way to buy it. There was this yellow pair of shoes in shop number seven that a friend should know about so they head there, try it on, take a snap of it and send it to seventeen girlfriends on Whatsapp.
So this past weekend I was coerced into going shopping with the missus. She gave me that woiyee look, twisted my arm till I couldn’t take any more and played that carrot and stick game by promising a sumptuous iftar meal in the evening. I ended up on a shopping and mostly seeing-and-turning-things-down spree for a good two hours.
I met several men who seemed to have undergone the same ordeal of being woiyeed and arm twisted till they yielded. We exchanged knowing glances and reassuring handshakes. It came to a point I was up in arms protesting that I had had enough of all that going round especially because I had chosen several clothes for her which she had mercilessly turned down without even looking at them twice- to which I was firmly accused of being impatient and ‘not there for her’!
Anyone in Mombasa will tell you that shopping close to the Eid festival is hectic. The entire population of Mombasa moves to Biashara Street and the entire Marikiti area which become a beehive of activity and human traffic. If you are doing last minute shopping in these last ten days of Ramadan, woe to you my brother, you will hate the experience!
First, majority of Eid shoppers are women. For every one man doing shopping there are like eight and a half women (statistics are very accurate). It’s even embarrassing and unbecoming of a man to be there with the exception of those who are arm twisted to being there.
In most cases you will not even raise your leg to make a step because you will end up stepping on someone. You just stand and let the human traffic push you along. Just be careful where you put your hands though, you may get slapped or insulted!
Now, today I wake up to a new plan in the house; my wife intends to go shopping AGAIN today and she wanted to know whether I will accompany her. Lucky me, I already have a court injunction barring me from executing among other duties shopping for clothes and shoes. The injunction goes further to categorically state that the only assistance i can offer is financial, not physical or emotional!
image courtesy of Google images.