The Journey or the Destination – More Differences Between Men and Women

I love and adore my husband, the Crankee Yankee. However, we do disagree on some things. If we are going somewhere, for him it’s all about the journey: what side roads to take, what we might see on the way, etc. For me, it’s all about the destination. Frankly, I don’t care what side roads we take–I just want to get to where we’re going, especially if we are going shopping.

Another difference between us is clothes shopping. When I do it, I take an armload of clothing into the dressing room, try everything on and decide what I want to buy. I want to see myself in the clothes from all angles, check how they feel when I sit down, think about what things I already have that they might go with, etc. So when I make my purchases, I’m 99% sure I will keep everything. The Crankee Yankee just loads up one arm with stuff his size and pays for it and leaves. No trying on for him. If it doesn’t fit, it goes back. Sometime.

This week he drove down to MA to buy a backup pump for the basement. We have been getting horrendous rains and our back yard has become a pond big enough in which to stock trout. In any case, he called me from the road, saying that he had the pump and was on his way home. Oh, and by the way, he had stopped at CostCo and bought a much-needed pair of sneakers. Naturally I asked him how they fit. He breezily replied that he hadn’t tried them on; that there was no place to do so.

REALLY?!? All he had to do was lean up against any wall, take off just ONE shoe, and try on ONE sneaker. That would have given him a pretty good idea whether they fit or not. Also, he mentioned that he bought a size 8.5, and we both know he takes a 9. The probable outcome of this purchase? He will take them back because they are too small, and he will probably wait so long to do so that he will either lose the receipt or the people at Costco will tell him that he should have brought them back in 30 days or less.

But then, he is all about the journey and not the destination. So, there’s another chance for him to go on another quest–back down to Costco to buy a pair of size 9 sneakers which he won’t try on (no place to do so, you know). And so it goes. I think my method is more efficient, but then, I’m all about the¬†destination and not the journey.

My method came directly from my mom. We would travel the most direct route, pillage the store, pay and walk out hooting like gorillas on steroids about how much we saved. For us, it was all about the thrill of the hunt. I remember one spectacular shopping spree where we found literally a barrel of our favorite bras, marked down 50%. We all but dove into it, and hauled out handfuls of bras, and heaped them up in front of us (so that no sneaky bargain hunters would snatch our stash). I believe that at one time we even growled at a few shoppers who ventured too near our kill.

Most men view clothes shopping as a necessary evil, or in the Crankee Yankee’s case, he’s sick of me throwing out all his “work clothes,” so he is forced to buy new stuff. The “work clothes” are all the ripped, stained, faded and falling-apart duds that once lived the high life in the closet on hangers, but have fallen into the bilge of the house, i.e., the Crankee Yankee’s work clothes bins. (Underwear suffers the most–it becomes merely a bit of elastic holding several holes together. Eww.) So now when the Crankee Yankee shops, he buys in bulk, like coffee or crackers.

UPDATE: The Crankee Yankee did take those size 8.5 sneakers back to CostCo and got size 9 instead. That was two days ago. He still hasn’t tried them on.

 

 

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