shopping is tough

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Reluctantly I went shopping.
When it comes to shopping I have more testosterone than estrogen.
I am focused.
I know what I want.
I drive there.
Park.
Head directly to the store (pre-researched usually).
No detours.
Just procure.

And where applicable, I buy more of the same to stock up.

Let’s see.
I have 3 to 5 identical looking black and grey slacks;
turtlenecks in all (non-hideous) colours;
and identical tailored shirts in different fabrics.
Bespoke works for me.
I don’t wear them often anyways.
I hate laundry.
I hate ironing.
I am way too cheap to dry clean.
Dry cleaning destroys the clothes and environment – so I maintain. It does!

But today, I had to go shopping.
I found a Harrods gift bag on my desk upon return from my absence.
‘orrrrhhhhh…. how sweet,’ was replaced in a split second to:
‘Damn. I didn’t buy him anything!’

I had assumed it was him coz he was gonna get himself slosh in London.
So, I tried to think what to get for the rest of the day. Surely it would be easy enough. I think I know my ‘little brother’ enough to figure out something he would like.

Some 48 hours later I was stopped abruptly on the way from the car park to my office; interrupting my morning stroll. My morning silence. My, me time before the real day starts.

“Did you get it?” she inquired.
I was confused. Besides being generally confused before the real start of my day at 10 am, I was racking my brain to figure her out. Figure out what she was on about.
“My gift. The Harrods bag on your table,” she offered.

{gulp}

I AM SOOOOOOOOO SCREWED!
Getting a gift from him was bad enough. One shouldn’t encourage these acts.
But from her?!????
gawd {pronounced g-o-d}
I AM SOOOOOOOOO SCREWED!
I can never resigned now. I have used the ‘career suicide’ as an excuse for 2 years now every time I am asked for a movie date. A meal date. A weekend date. A date – date.

I am better off being hit by a bus now.

{not a total implausible notion given my track record just days before this occurrence}

But seriously, for now, what the heck do I get for her???
I remain:
I AM SOOOOOOOOO SCREWED!
I truly do not want to OWE{?} her anything.
Don’t get me wrong. I like her. I like her a whole lot.
Just not that way.

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