Or, as you've surely already learned in my one-day-to-be bestselling novel which you can buy FOR JUST FUCKING $2.99 ALREADY!!!!!, "surrendering your manhood:
“I shop
like I’m running into a burning building to save my porn stash, in and
out. But she’s gonna want me to try on
everything in the freaking store.”
“Fee
stor Rats!”
“Exactly. And there’s no way she’s gonna see all those
shiny, new clothes and not wanna try some on herself, right? Even the crap she has NO intention of buying
she’ll still wanna try on! We’re gonna
be in there all day.”
“Rats!”
“But
I’ll tell you what the WORST thing is, lil’ buddy.”
Chuck
was pointing at a dog walking by.
“Hey! Are you even listening to me?”
“Rats!”
I
almost caught his sippy cup before it hit the ground, but bobbled it.
“The
worst part is that, unbelievably, during all this trying crap on, guess who has
to hold her freaking purse?”
“Rats!”
“You’re
darn right it’s Rats,” I smacked the table with my palm. “’Just for one second!’ she’ll say.”
“Wha
second Rats!”
“You’re
know it’s never just for one second, lil’ buddy,” I agreed. “And of course this is the moment your old
high school football coach decides to stroll through the middle of freaking
Daffy’s in Midtown Manhattan for no particular reason. He sees you standing there holding a girl’s
handbag, and just says ‘I knew it.’
Man. Brutal.”
Chuck
gave a blank, but knowing stare.
“You
know what I’m saying, lil’ buddy,” I was shaking my head. Looking across the park, I could see Criss
paying for her coffee. “And you know
what the topper is, lil’ buddy?”
“Rats!”
“I’ll
tell you what I-“
“Rats!
Rats!”
“I-“
“Rats!”
“Dude,
shut it. I’m trying to teach you
something here, for chrissakes. As I was
saying, the more you get asked to do the hold-my-purse routine, the less likely
it is you’ll ever have sex with that woman.
Know what I mean?”
Being a
good sidekick, he gave me an empathetic look.
“It’s
never the husbands, or boyfriends, or ‘friends with benefits’ that do this
crap, right? But guess who does?”
“Rats!”
“You
got that right it’s Rats!” I smacked my
hand on the table again in total victory, had total victory meant declaring
another reason why I never got laid.
“I’m telling you, lil’ buddy, if a girl is into you, you can tell her to
get the heck away when she tries handing you a handbag. Hey, she’s lucky you even came along in the
first place. It’s only the pining,
pathetic dudes dumb enough to say ‘oh yeah, of course I’ll go shopping with
you!’ that end up standing there holding the purse like an idiot. Then she goes home and bangs her man all
night while you’re making mix tapes for her that she’ll never listen to. Believe me, lil’ buddy, that’s how this
little dance works. Suckers.”
“Rats! Suckasrats!”
I stood
up, pacing in front of him.
“I’m
just saying, lil’ buddy. When you grow
up and find yourself in a store with a girl who wants you to hold a bag and you
do it, you have ceased being a man to her.”
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