Shorts stop

I hate shopping for clothes.

Come to think of it, I hate shopping for anything (except cars) and am confident I speak for the majority of my gender when I say that most men would agree with me. Have you ever met a man who, when you asked what he did that day, replied, “I went to the mall, tried on lots of clothes, bought several bags full, brought them home, tried them on again, then decided I didn’t like them, so I plan to take them back so I can do it all over again?”

Of course not. Women do it all the time but men don’t have time for that kind of nonsense. We’re too busy doing manly stuff. This morning, for instance, I made a pie. 

Happily, my wife loves to shop so she buys all my shirts, underwear and socks. Living in the tropics, I have little need for long pants; I have more than enough to see me out, left over from my years up north. I do, however, have to shop for shorts, which I wear 365 days a year. I’m a size thirty-five, a size that’s damn near impossible to find, so I can't order them online. I have to go from store to store, trying on lots of generously-sized thirty-fours and undersized thirty-sixes to find the rare pair that will fit.

I set aside one day a year to replace shorts that have started fraying and/or have shrunk from repeated washings and/or (most likely) have been ruined by spilled food and wine, and today was that day. Because I have such a hard time finding shorts that fit, my annual shorts shopping trip is generally an all-day proposition.

But not today.

At the very first store I visited, a helpful salesman pulled off the rack a pair of size 35 shorts from a shipment he said had arrived overnight. They fit perfectly. So I bought five more pairs in different colors. Then I grabbed two shirts that were on sale – the first I’ve bought myself this millennium.

I was home a half hour after I left –and that’s including the 20 minutes it took to drive to and from the mall. My wife was incredulous.

“Why didn’t you look at other stores?” she asked.

“Because these fit."

“But how do you know they fit? You couldn’t have possibly tried them all on.”

“I tried on one pair. They fit, so the others will, too."

“How can you be sure you wouldn’t have have found some you like even better somewhere else?”

“I can't. But these are fine.”

“But they are all just alike except for the color.”

“What’s your point?”

“You don’t get shopping,” she said.

Perhaps I don't. All I know that is that, mercifully, I won't have to do it again for another year.