Girl Stuff.
With Mother’s day upon us, I made the trek to the nearest shopping mall in search of gifts. Buying for my wife is usually pretty easy, but in today’s episode I was shopping for my mom who is impossible to shop for. The older I get, the harder it becomes to buy meaningful gifts for my parents. Heck, I gave up on meaningful years ago and now simply strive to buy something that will be remotely useful or functional. I just hate the idea of giving someone a gift that they will be apathetic towards.
The thing is, when you run out of ideas the mall is full of stores that make things easier — Victoria’s Secret, Bath and Body Works, etc. in particular. The problem is these places fail to understand what must be at least half of their customer base: men.
So there I was slinking out of Yankee Candle with a gift pack full of candles and lotions of holistically complimentary scents. Something that I am sure mom will at least use. So slinking, you ask? Yes, because all of this scentedness was carefully packaged for me in a fluffy bag stuffed with pink tissue paper, pretty much the last thing I would like to be seen packing through the mall with. Prior to my purchase I had considered stopping by EB Games for a peek at their used games bin but any thoughts of that were soon dashed by my pink portage.
Similarly, my trip to Victoria’s Secret to buy fine smelling things for St. Valentine’s Day was similarly marked by the frilly gift bag it all was packed in. But to top it off, the sales clerk and Victoria’s Secret took further action and sprayed the fountain of pink tissue paper that erupted from my new pink-striped paper bag with perfume. It spent the rest of the week as the gift sat in my trunk, hidden from prying eyes, making the air in my car barely breathable.
I can’t help but think I am not the only man who is uncomfortable when my purchases are so adorned. In fact, it certainly must cost them sales from the more easily embarrassed. If these stores really knew how to treat their male customers, they’d pack this stuff in a plain brown paper bag. With “Motor Oil” or “Carbuerators” printed on the side.
Seriously.