My lovely wife (a real life rocket scientist) is the only person who can humiliate me to the point of melting and wanting to evaporate.
I love her very dearly.
Because it’s Friday and I’m drinking Diet Dr. Pepper, I will tell you short story. It involves Costco, hundreds of strangers, a pair of underwear (clean, never used) and an asleep-at-the-wheel husband.
If you have ever been to Costco then you will know how large of a place it is. Think cavernous.
It’s quite possible to purchase a kayak, live Lobsters and a high definition television all while looking for a gallon of milk. A true cornucopia of consumer delight.
The variety and prices draw people in the hundreds at any given hour on a Saturday. It’s so crowded that parking is impossible and takes twice as long as the entire shopping experience. Think hoard.
So my wife and I are halfway through our hour long voyage through the store when we come across the clothing. I was looking over a pair Sperry Top-Siders when my wife called me over to where she was shopping.
“Come here,” she said innocently, “you need new underwear”
This should have set off at least a dozen alarms and bells in my head but it didn’t, so without pause or caution I walked over to her completely unprepared for what was about to happen.
As soon as I drew within arms reach, the wife took a pair of said undergarments and in one swoop had stretched them across my waist and held them up approximately where she assumed they should fit.
Now who says time travel doesn’t exist? Because at that very moment I was instantly transported back to the year 1976, when my mother took me school shopping. It was all so clear, so familiar, there I am with a red Darth Vader t-shirt and mom, kneeling next to me, holding up pants to my waist.
Then suddenly, in a flash, I was yanked back into the current time line, standing in front of Costco, all of Costco, with hundreds of strangers who were now looking at a grown man, face bright tomato red, with a pair of underwear being held up by his wife who was still analyzing how well they would fit, oblivious to the crowd of onlookers.
I think you can guess who bought the chocolate yogurt on the way out the door.