The Problem With People

Oh God there’s another one. That seemed to be my constant thought as I maneuvered through the crowds of Chesterfield mall. It was Saturday, the day after Black Friday, but nonetheless crowded. My mother was over at the library at a card making workshop and when she offered to take me to the nearby mall I jumped at the offer. I thought it would be a nice outing. Boy was I wrong.

The pale hardwood floors were packed with shoppers trying to sniff out the best holiday deal. Fifty bucks were tucked into a pocket of my black messenger bag, making it that much heavier. Yes, Mr. President, I will do my duty to boost the economy. Take my money. Ha! I love shopping desperately as my overburdened closet attests to. But today I was supposed to be shopping for my cousins’ Christmas presents. Although I don’t think Jacob’s broad shoulders would have fit into that red dress at Macy’s. And Nathan’s feet would not have fit into the size five ankle boots I was eyeing. Despite these discrepancies, I was in my element.

As I tried to find my way around one thing kept bugging the living daylights out of me. And by one thing what I really mean is two. Couples. They were everywhere. And why not? Tis the season. Teenaged couples were around every corner I turned but that is not the thing that irked me.

No, what bothered me was the way the girls were treating their boyfriends. Not necessarily horrible—there were no public floggings that I could see—but I still winced to see it. I just felt bad for those guys, even if they didn’t seem to mind too much. Two particular cases stick out in my mind.

One case I noticed by force as the girlfriend in question brushed past me (rather rudely I might add. Yes I am walking here wench!), dragging her boyfriend behind her. The event itself wasn’t that remarkable. What made me remember it though was the guy wisely had his nose buried in a book. Clearly he had been through this before. I almost laughed out loud because the pair looked so comical. The girl pulling the boy around the circle racks while he was trying to read; it was quite a sight. I wasn’t finding anything so I started towards the front. As I made my way out I saw the couple again. The girl brought her mini-parade to a halt before a woman I can only assume was the girl’s mother. She grabbed a sweater and held it up to her chest.

“What do you think?” the girl asked her mother

“I don’t know.” Said the mother.

“What do you think?” the girl turned to her boyfriend.

Without even looking up from his book her boyfriend replied, “Looks great babe.”

Even though I didn’t find anything I left that store smiling. I spotted couple number two heading towards the store I had just left. The girl—I’m tired of using the girl and the boy, this chick’s name is going to be Candy and I’ll name the guy when I get to him—Candy’s eyes got big and round when she saw the Sale sign. She smiled with her generic straight white teeth and clapped her hands. Yes folks, she actually clapped.

“Oh my God! We’re going in.” Candy squealed.

Spike, so named for his multiple piercing in his eyebrows and ears, must have decided it was time to take a stand. He told Candy no, they were not going in. Point for Spike. Spike was tallish with dyed black hair, which he currently had covered with a backwards baseball cap. He was wearing a tie-dyed t-shirt (bought not made) and jeans—your typical guy. Yeah he lost all his he-man points when Candy grabbed his wrist and pulled.

“NO! I don’t wanna go!” Spike whined

He tried to plant his feet but Candy persisted. She ended up dragging him into that store while Spike did something that closely resembled the Snoopy dance repeating his protest as he went.

What is wrong with both of these couples? To the guys: I’m sorry, so very sorry, because that was ridiculous. Don’t let that happen again. To the girls: You know your boyfriends don’t want to go shopping with you! So don’t take them! Go get your girlfriends. At least they’ll tell you what looks good on you, and will go into almost every freakin store anyway. As much as I feel ashamed for those guys, I am really ashamed of those girls. I want to shake some sense into them, or just shake them. I want to scream at them, “You can carry your own shopping bags! You do not need him to hold your purse! Do it yourself: he’s not a pack mule he’s your boyfriend!” Good gravy! And those guys just take it! Argh! Couples.