So there you are, innocently battering pedestrians with a bus in Grand Theft Auto when you hear that dreaded, menacing sound; a warning of sorts, it’s the closest thing to a rattlesnake’s “chchchchchch” that mankind has yet evolved. The hair on your arms stands on end, your body tenses, your butt cheeks clench, and your palms begin to sweat. You feel your toes begin to push down on the ground slightly, ready to run (instinctively you opt for the “flight” over the “fight” because you’re a pansy). You try to ignore it, but it just gets louder and louder, unwilling to bear your charade of ignorance. Finally, the sound reaches a volume and tone that elicits your response, a reflex aimed at self-preservation.
“Schnuckums!? Are you listening to me?”
“Uh…” You say, your voice waivering. “Yeah babe, I hear you.”
“Are you ready?” the predator bellows, baiting the prey.
“Ready for what… beautiful?” You reply, hoping that somehow the interrogative will provide you an escape while tossing in the compliment at the end to ease the delivery, like the flavoring those bastards put in NyQuil.
“Don’t even try that crap on me. Get off your ass. We’re going shopping.” The snare tightens around your feet. You’ve been caught. Resistance is now futile.
Now that you’ve been reduced to the status of indentured servant, there are a few things you must remember in order to survive. The full moon that is a monthly sale has turned your once kind, sweet girlfriend into a vicious, bloodthirsty monster. A wereshopper, if you will. Like a lycanthrope, but much more subtle in its preferred murderous methods. You’re about to venture into a dark, dangerous place. Stick with me, and you’ll be stronger, more courageous, and not single when it’s over. Welcome to the jungle.
Do Not Opine
You are about to be bombarded by lies. She will ask you over and over “what you think” about “this dress” and “these pants” and “that girl’s butt.” She will tell you to “be honest” because she “seriously doesn’t care” and “really wants your input.” She will ask if you are “having fun” or “enjoying this time together” or if you think that shopping is still “excruciatingly painful and torturous.” DO NOT BELIEVE HER. She does not want to know what you really think. These are landmines that she is throwing in front of you, like some kind of horrible Super Mario level. To avoid them you must not under any circumstances give your honest opinion. You must tell her what she wants to hear. To determine what exactly that is, a good general rule is to take your actual opinion, and say exactly the opposite. Examples:
Scenario One: Beauty Contest
Her: Babe, that girl is so fat, right?
Your Actual Thoughts: Nope. She’s pretty hot actually. Do you know her?
What You Should Say Instead: What girl? Oh, that porker over there? Yeah. She’s a giant.
Scenario Two: Fashion Show
Her: Honey, how do these pants look on me?
Your Actual Thoughts: Yikes. Looks like half of your ass is trying to escape suffocation.
What You Should Say Instead: How do they feel?
(Based on her response, choose positive or negative)
Positive: For real, I think they frame your figure pretty well.
IMPORTANT NOTE: If she goes negative, that doesn’t mean you can agree with her. Find a way to agree with her without agreeing with her. Sound like some kind of psychological puzzle? Say hello to the female psyche.
Negative: They don’t look bad to me, but you know European sizes can be pretty weird. Why don’t you try on a few more pairs?
Have fun hanging on the rim comrade, because you just scored a slam dunk.
LET VICTORIA HAVE HER SECRETS
This is a survival tip that came straight from Survivorman Les Stroud himself. Your lady might throw some sort of sexy glance at you and say “hey… wanna help me pick out lingerie?” Sounds like a fun idea, right? You are being tempted by the devil. You might think this is like walking into the Victoria’s Secret Catalog you have stashed underneath your mattress, but you are actually walking into weeks of groveling and having to watch Matthew McConaughey movies. You will not be able to say anything right. See something you like? Here’s how her responses will go:
Her: Of course you like that. All that you think about is sex. You’re a pig.
Her: Seriously? That? What am I, a grandmother? You’re a pig.
There is literally no way to win. The best way to win is to stay out. Your feet hurt, you’re hungry, you have to call your mother, you want her to surprise you – it doesn’t matter. Piss your pants if you have to, just don’t go in there. Furthermore, you could gouge your eyes out with golden broaches Oedipus-style prior to walking into the store, but it wouldn’t make a difference. She’d still think you were looking at every other girl’s boobs in there. Not even looking at mannequins is safe. Even if she’s right (and she probably is), she’s bringing you into an woman’s underwear store that is literally wallpapered with scantily clad babes. What the hell does she expect? Unless she thought she was dating a eunuch, she can’t expect you to avert your eyes from every cleavage chasm around you. You can’t put metal next to a magnet and get pissed when it gets pulled in. It’s science.
There you have it my brothers. If any of you have any tips you’d like to add to help your fellow man survive this treacherous landscape, please feel free to add them. Until next time, good luck.