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December 28, 2012

This is my experience shopping with an ex. Beware men.

   I'm writing this article because I know that many men out there have suffered the same horrid, life scarring, tragic event that I have.  An event that will leave you damaged and emotionally destroyed throughout the ages.  This is no laughing matter.  What I speak of is what all men have dreaded since the beginning of time.  It has driven the male race to the brink of insanity and has caused the destruction of nations.  Only one thing could cause such a cataclysmic effect to the face of the earth.   What may you ask that I speak of?  That would be....SHOPPING WITH YOUR WOMAN.

      I began my lowly decent into the bowels of hell on a nice summer morning.  I knew not the tragic events that would ensue that day.  The narcissistic, sociopath, bi-polar, lunatic I was dating at the time suggested that I take her shopping.  The mall was due north, the same way my pecker faces at that time of the morning, so I looked down, shrugged, and said "Oooook".  On our way we went to the Super Center of American consumerism. The mall.  I pulled into a parking garage filled with mayhem as cars occupied with gluttonous cows raced to get to the closest parking spot next to the food court so they could stuff their troughs with shitty mall food before wobbling to the nearest Old Navy.  After maneuvering through this heard of wildabeasts I finally entered the automatic opening door unscathed.  I looked back as an army of buffalo raced to the door (There's a funny thing about automatic opening doors.  If you look up as the door opens there is a button you can hit that stops the door from opening).  So of course I hit it.  Little did I realize my poor girlfriend was leading the pack of cowmandos and was the first to hit the door with a legion of mammoths directly behind her.  She weighed about 110 lbs.  It looked like a toothpick in a bag of marshmallows.  Needless to say, she was not pleased and I knew later that day that my testicles would be in a vice.

     I've always known my ex to be a thrifty shopper.  Of course, that was until she went shopping with my wallet.  Immediately she directed us to one of the three most expensive department stores in the mall.  I've always been the type to walk into a store, take a quick glance, and within minutes I would know exactly what I want.  Most of the time I won't even try anything on because I have a sixth sense for these things.  THIS IS NOT THE CASE WHEN YOU SHOP WITH A WOMAN.  As soon as we enter the store I point out a few tasteful items that would be perfect for her.  She responds with, "Ummm, no...that's ugly.  I don't like it.  What the hell are you thinking?".  So she decides to lead me through every isle about a half a dozen times each, trying dozens of items that she doesn't want to buy, only stopping to smack me as I pause to wink at the cute girl working in the makeup department.  I can't even begin to describe the joy I felt sitting in a dressing room for hours as an Ethiopian-like woman asked me if she looked fat in countless outfits that would make an AIDS baby look skinny.  I honestly contemplated grabbing a tie off the return rack in the dressing room and hanging myself but then I realized I would never rest in peace with this woman at my funeral. 

     Four hours later she was incapable of finding anything to buy in this store.  She suggested we go to the next store.  I suggested I jump off of the top of the escalator.  She was not pleased.  As we began our exit towards the same the location that we originally entered a few things caught her eye.  I thought to myself, "Finally!  There is a God!" then I realized she was picking out every item that I pointed out to her 30 seconds after we entered the store.  She giggled excitedly, "This is perfect!  I have such great taste!".  I mumbled silently, "For black dick".  She ran off into the dressing room as I went to handle some unfinished business.  Somehow I stumbled into the makeup department and by accident the woman I winked at earlier wrote her phone number on a card with lipstick....and a kiss print.  Score one for the blue team!

     Little did I know about shopping with women is that when they break the ice and make their first purchase it's like a crackhead taking their first hit of the day.  They want MORE, they crave MORE, they need MORE!  Hour by hour passes and my arms are fatigued from carrying dozens of bags throughout this God forsaken hell hole.  I want to leave her forever in this mall but I realize my arms have become flat tires and I may be incapable of masturbation for months so I might as well ride this one out.  This is a lesson for all the bigots that hate gay people.  You are fucking stupid.  FIND YOUR WOMAN A GAY BEST FRIEND.  YOU WILL NEVER HAVE TO SUFFER AS I HAVE.  In fact, I make it a prerequisite before I date a girl.  If she doesn't have a gay best friend to go shopping with then I won't date her.  Shopping with a woman?  NEVER AGAIN.