Next time one of us needs to bring a deck of cards…

This week I’m actually writing your friendly, neighborhood humor column on location, although sadly in reality it’s not nearly as glamorous as it might sound! In truth, I’m actually knee-deep in Day #2 of a weekend-long excursion to find my fiancee a new dress to wear to a wedding next week … and just between you and me, I don’t think it took her this long to find a dress for our own wedding, but I digress.

Anyways, so here I sit on an awkwardly-trendy leather couch just outside the ladies fitting room of a major department store that rhymes with Blacey’s, meaning that to any passers-by, I either fit the profile of a creepy stalker or a man whose been sufficiently whipped by his significant other into coming clothes shopping with her. I’m hoping that more folks will give me at least a little credit and slant towards the latter – I mean, at least I don’t look like that guy across the table from me – but who knows. Women get in a strange headspace when they’re shopping (well, stranger than usual, anyways…) and at least while I’m sitting here surrounded by more overpriced pairs of panties than even the most in-the-doghouse guy could ever need, I’m not about to try to figure that one out…

Why do they put the man-couches right next to the lingerie section, anyways??? If the ladies browsing didn’t look so pissed whenever our eyes wandered over in that direction, I would almost think that it was meant to be some sort of reward for our enduring such an otherwise horrendously boring shopping trip!

I’ve got to admit, however, that although I’m not exactly having the time of my life here on the man couch (I’ve still managed to entertain myself to some extent by posing with different bras in the mirror and rearranging the mannequins into provocative poses), one look around to my fellow couch-mates here makes it painfully clear that I’ve got the least amount of man-couch tenure in this crowd by about twenty or thirty years. And I can tell that these are all honorable men – probably doctors and lawyers and teachers – admirable, respectable, and dignified … or at least they used to be until they found themselves reduced to bag handlers and portable ATMs, dragged along by their loving women who make it abundantly clear that they have them wrapped around their French-tipped, little fingers…

And as just a quick note for any ladies reading this who may be quick to quip that their men actually want to go shopping with them, let me say this in the nicest way that simply put – no, they don’t. If you honestly believed them when they told you that they’d “definitely rather go shopping with you than watch the game on Sunday,” talk to me later about a course that I offer called Recognizing Sarcasm: When Yes Means No.

Of course, the big question that I find myself faced with this afternoon as I sit surrounded by “men” who wait patiently for their ladies to parade out in outfit after outfit, despite the fact that each and every one of them will receive the same response – “It looks nice.” – is am I firmly on track to becoming one of these sorely whipped significant others myself? Sure, my fiancée tries to limit our little weekend excursions like this to only once or twice a year, and she did say that we could get ice cream when we’re done if I behave myself, so maybe I’m not like these other guys. I mean, I can come and go as I please, right?! I’m sitting here, surrounded by hapless shells of men, but I’m not one of…

“What’s that, dear? Yes, I think that skirt looks great! You’ve got how many more things left to try on? No, no – take your time! This is exactly how I had planned on spending my weekend…”

Sorry about that. I don’t remember what I was saying, but I think I’m going to have to let you go. After this, I think she still wanted to stop by the shoe store, and she also mentioned something about the Pottery Barn. And let me tell you, nothing makes a guy feel more manly after a weekend of dress shopping than finding the absolute perfect accent pillows for the bed. I wonder if they’ll have a couch for me to wait on there, too…