Thursday = Revenge

I should probably explain why I hang out with Dustin so much. First, I've known him since I was 10; second, he lives in Oklahoma City, but he still works here in Stillwater, so he stays with me two or three nights per week to save on gass and his sanity--because no one wants to spend three hours per day on the road.

Dustin called me late in the afternoon and asked me if I wanted to go Christmas shopping with him. He knows I hate shopping, but just in case he forgot, I reminded him.

"I hate shopping, too and that's why I want some company," Dustin said.

So I agreed to go, not so much to be nice but because if a friend asks me to do something and if I'm able to do it, I feel obligated. Damn friends. And keep that to yourself if you read this!! But I had a plan. Yes, I did. I would find a way to embarrass him, since the bastard was going to drag me around shopping. I wasn't too sure how I was going to do it, but I knew I'd think of something. That's the price you pay when I feel forced to do something I don't want to do. I'll do it. Sure. But there will be some sort of rebellion--because I enjoy being a pain in the ass and because it gives me something else to think about other than "the retail world sucks ass." Also, I still had some indigestion from the Italian we ate last night. So I wasn't in the best of moods. (I took upwards of 10 chewable antacids and a couple of tablespoons of Pepto, but nothing was working. When I burped, it felt like a little bit of lava hitting my throat. Whole wheat pasta, dammit! No other pasta is acceptable.)

So Dustin came over and the first thing he did was pour himself a glass of wine. "You should have some, too," he said. "Shopping won't be so annoying."

"My stomach is pissed," I said. "It's the last thing I want."

So we shot the shit for a little while and then we were off to the land where people go to buy too much shit on credit. Suprisingly, the first place he stopped was BigLots, a bargain center I've never been in. Air Supply was playing on the intercomm system. I cringed and thought that this might be worse than I ever imagined. Dustin found a couple of framed mirrors for his wife to put up at their new place, and then he looked around the toy section for some fun things for his nephews and nieces. I helped pick out some sort of Superman action figure because there were so many different ones. Ah, good times! I don't mind toy sections. :)

We went to the counter to check out, and as the lady, a girl in her early 20s, was ringing the stuff up, I asked, "I didn't see any porn. Where's your porn? Is it by the dolls?" Dustin's eyes got big, real BIG, and then he just laughed.

Obviously, I'm transparent. The clerk said, "I've been suggesting porn here for a long time, but no one will listen to me. Don't you think it would be better near the diapers?" as if what I asked was, "Do you carry multivitamins?" Grrrrrrr! Why won't anyone believe me when I try to act like a perverted bastard? I must be a poor actor.

Shit! No embarrassing Dustin on that one. But I'll give myself an A- for effort.

We stopped at two shoe places next, both of them exclusively for women. Shelley wanted a pair of boots much like the ones she had seen on "Serenity", a movie I had loaned to Dustin and her. The first place didn't have them, and the service there kind of sucked; no one even asked us if we needed help . . . .