A zipper that won't zip can be a tricky situation at any time when it involves a wife asking her husband for assistance. It is only made worse when you are minutes away from leaving for a funeral and the zipper in question comes from a dress that was just purchased a day or two before, for that exact occasion. And this was the dilemma I faced earlier this morning as my wife and I prepared ourselves for funeral services. I would have preferred that JC Penny was a full service, 24X7 operation so my wife could quietly slip away for a quick exchange, but we needed to get to a funeral home quick, and the folks at Penny's don't make house calls. So naturally, my wife comes to the second alternative and asks me to help.All sorts of questions come up in a man's mind, but if you are smart, you would never say something like, "Did you try it on before you bought it?" or "Did it fit when you bought it?" or the always popular, "Geeze, is it possible to grow that much in two days?" Of course, none of these questions were applicable in this case, since I wished to remain living in the house I make payments on each month. Actually, we have the case of some fancy-pants designer selling dresses with extremely crappy quality zippers. As proof, my wife pulled the dress off and with no bodily pressure applied at all, there was still no making the Zipper function properly.
Having the evidence I needed without having to ask any of the aforementioned objectionable questions, I then suggested my wife slip the dress back on while I grab the pliers. Sorry, I don't have any photos to illustrate.
With my wife holding the bottom of the zipper in place and me holding the top, I grabbed the little zipper thingy with a pair of needle nosed pliers and gave it a good tug. The zipper made it up about a quarter of the way, just as far as my wife had zipped it before. I then warned my wife to brace herself and I gave the zipper another strong tug and this time, it went all the way to the top. Only problem is, none of the teeth in the zipper caught and now, my wife was zipped up with a huge opening on the back of her dress, thoughtfully outlined in the cheap teeth of a really crappy zipper.
Needless to say, time was running out on us and my wife made a beeline for the closet to grab a quick substitution. Now let's be honest. This is August in San Antonio, and 100 degree days are the norm. People understand if you don't want to get all dressed-up for a funeral, so it would have been perfectly understandable to me if my wife walked downstairs in a pair of shorts with a black T-shirt. But instead, she was able to find a nice dress she had picked up at a garage sale for $3.00, and upon a quick approval from me (like I'm going to argue at this point) she was satisfied that she would survive the trauma.
There was only one small problem. The dress was sort of low-cut. And while doing some sort of personal battle in our kitchen, my wife uttered (sorry), these words, "Dear Lord why did you bless me with these big hooters?" I assure you, husbands everywhere; of all the possible responses available to you, now is not the time to say, "Because they are fun?" ------<<<>>>------
We attended the funeral services, visited with family and later decided it was not too late to make a trip to JC Penny for a full and immediate refund on the now useless dress. They say that time heals all wounds, but between 7:00 this morning and 5:30 this afternoon, my wife was still pretty steamed that she was not able to wear the dress she had purchased. Frankly, when we got to Penny's, I made some excuse about needing to look for some new ties or something while she went off to do battle. As a side note, I was walking through the Men's department and saw a pair of slacks that I liked so I took them to the fitting rooms. I walked in and saw an open door to one of the dressing rooms and walked in to find a man standing there in his underwear. I started to step backwards out of the stall and the guy just looked at me and said, "No thank you."
Do you suppose he thought I was bringing him the slacks I wanted to try on? Is there a service where people bring you suggested slacks while you are at Penny's? If so, I was not aware of it.Anyway, I guess the whole encounter must have left me a little disoriented because I just walked out of the fitting room and into the Men's department to find my wife waiting for me with a full, no questions asked, refund on her unusable dress.They have no idea of the pain they avoided! And that is one of the reasons why I continue to shop at Penny's. Dressing room oddities notwithstanding.
My wife and I experienced something this afternoon that really left us pissed off and a bit frazzled for a while. We went into The Rim to run into the JC Penny's before heading out to Boerne. By chance, I pulled into a parking spot just in front of the Kirklands.
As I was getting out of the truck, I happened to look down in the car parked beside me and saw a dog sitting in the back seat. I did a double take because the first thing I realized was that the windows on the car were rolled up. I snapped a few pictures before whipping open my phone and calling SAPD. Meanwhile, my wife ran into the Penny's to ask the staff there to call The Rim security, which of course they did.
I stood by the car because I was going to wait for the police and if the dog appeared to have the least amount of stress, I was going to take great joy in busting one of the windows on the car.
Now let's be clear. The owner of the car was gone when we pulled in, so we really have no idea if the dog had been left in the heat for a minute or an hour. So when the lady walked up to the car and saw me taking pictures of her license plate, she had sort of a weird smile on her face as if she realized why I was standing there. I asked her if she realized she had left her dog in the car with the windows rolled up. She didn't look shocked at all but rather pulled off one of those, "Oops, I thought I left the windows down" excuses. The lady is lucky my wife was still in Penny's.
I then said to her, "Well why don't you at least open the door so the dog can get some air?" and she immediately opened the back door and said, "Oh, he's fine." Again, the lady is lucky my wife was still in Penny's. Not that she has to apologize to me, but for Christ's sake, show some concern or remorse, if only pretend.
I just shook my head in disbelief as the lady climbed into her car and pulled out. It was obvious that the police call probably hadn't been made at this point, but I was hoping for a quick arrival by security. I called SAPD back and told them that the lady with the dog had left so they may as well not bother, but I did give them the car description and the license plate number.
So, As I am walking toward Penney's and my wife is walking out to tell me security is on the way, we turn around and see that the lady has now pulled into the fire lane in front of Kirkland's to have some stuff loaded. When she saw us stop to look at her, it looked to me as if she had changed her mind about leaving the dog in the car again, and this time, pulled the dog out on his leash (Thank God he was okay), and then yelled to us, "It's okay, you don't have to watch me."
I despise a scene or any drama, but my wife yelled back at the top of her lungs something about don't worry about us, you should worry about your dog and stupid people shouldn't be allowed to have pets etc etc. Had we been closer, I think we might have had a situation.
By the time we finished our quick stop in Penney's (four $40.00 shirts for $6.97 each), the security lady had arrived and my wife showed her the pictures I took along with the license plate number. The security lady told us it was definitely a felony and the lady was lucky she got out before the police got there, or she probably would be going to jail.
We're just glad the dog was okay. Look, anyone can make a mistake or become forgetful, but how many times do we have to see on the news that dumbasses in Texas, where on any day it can soar into the high 90's, keep forgetting their kids and pets in locked and sealed pressure cookers? I honestly hope this lady won't make the same mistake again, for the sake of the dog.
Oh, and I guess the obvious question is, why the hell does one take a dog to The Rim in the first place?
My wife and I had an important errand to run Saturday afternoon at 3PM but through the use of modern cellular communications, we were able to learn that we would not be needed downtown until closer to 4PM. Since we were already on the road and since I had a watch that stopped at 11 o'clock (it was closer to 2), I suggested we run into Ingram Park Mall and get a battery for the malciferated watch and kill a little time.
I really only have a handful of reasons that can get me to the mall these days. One is JC Penny's. I like the slacks they sell and more importantly, you can get into Penny's without going into the mall.
There is also a Security Service Credit Union outlet in the mall, so if for some insane reason you need to make a transaction that can't be done at an ATM machine and it is after 5PM, you can go in there. Oh, and it is at the entrance to the mall, so technically, you don't have to go into the mall.
But on this day, we would have to actually go inside the inner bowels of the mall where one must negotiate crowded spaces with undesirable elements of society - teenagers and such. The little kiosk my wife always goes to for watch and jewelry repair is on the lower level, I think where there used to be a Luby's. I'm not sure if it is still there or not. Anyway, Sears is the anchor on that end of the mall.
So the guy there is extremely nice and recognizes my wife right away from the repeat business and takes a quick look at my watch and says he can fix it up in about 15 minutes. So, what this means is, we had to stay in the mall for another 15 minutes.
We did run into Kirklands and buy a picture but then decided that we better eat. Okay, in theory, the concept of the food court is a great idea. You take a dozen or so diverse restaurant outlets, put them in an open space, then provide shared seating so that people in the same party can eat different foods but sit together. The problem with this is, you have to sit with other people. Mall people.
If you ever have a poor body image, feel as though you are too overweight, have a bad complexion, don't dress right, or are generally ugly, I'd like to offer up a little advice. Take a day trip to the food court and Ingram Park Mall some weekend and I promise, you will come out of there feeling like you could win the Miss Teen USA contest without having to know where America is on a map. You can ask my wife; I'm no fancy dresser and once, I was able to leave the house wearing white socks and sandals (much to the embarrassment of my wife), but after mingling with the people at this food court, I actually looked reasonable.
One word people: Mirror. Look at yourself in the mirror and if it looks good to you, you need to change. That's right. If you are one of the men I saw at the food court yesterday who looked in the mirror at your Capri pants and said, "I look good being a man wearing Capri's" you are no longer able to trust your own instincts. I know gay people who think that men who wear Capri's look too gay to be seen in public.
Okay, so we were in the food court and my wife had a hankerin' for Chic-Fil-A . No thanks. So while she was rounding up some of that, I saw this place that sells Philly Cheese Steaks. I looke over the menu and I saw that they also sell a Muffuletta.
The Muffuletta's I know about come on a big round piece of bread and have some sort of olive salad on the bottom, then covered with the meats and cheeses. This one came on a sub bun, and there was no hint or discussion of olives at all. It was simply some fried salami or something with cheese melted on it. So, in the same way that Subway asks you what toppings you would like on it, I asked the lady for some black olives to go on my fried bologna sandwich.
Hell, I ought to be a sandwich creator because the end result was pretty darn tasty. I ate the entire thing without complaint, other than it wasn't what I thought I was ordering.
In the meantime, my wife and I used the time to observe the unfortunate people put upon this earth to congregate in a place for the sole purpose of providing us reason to feel better about our looks. We aren't shallow people, we just use the tools we are given.
I don't like to go to the mall but for one reason: JC Penny's and the Men's section. I go there, I buy slacks, I buy shirts, I look at ties and unless they have been drastically reduced, I put them back, and then I go home.
Turns out, there are more stores in the mall, and it further turns out, that my wife has made some sort of relationship with a jewelry store within the center of this mall. In fact, the few pieces of jewelry that I do wear, apparently they came from this place.
Oh, and I paid for it.
So, through various home ownership related do it yourself projects, I had somehow bent the living crap out of my wedding band. I wouldn't otherwise mind, but it was starting to cramp my style. Each time I would bend my fingers it would hurt, so my wife suggested that we go to this "lady she knew" who could "fix it for free".
We get to Gordon's, and my wife whips out a veritable treasure box of official looking documents and certificates, all of which contain proof that they are going to clean and fix my ring, and pronto!
While we wait, the sales lady, whom my wife seems to know with some familiarity, is talking about anniversary rings, dinner broaches, wedding pearls, funeral coins, and 4th of July sparklers. The Hell you say?
Just then as I started to perk up and perhaps look into this conversation, I saw a few receipts pass back between the ladies. The sales lady must have caught my hovering glances just about the time I stood up and said within hearing distance of the pants-man at Penny's, "Sweet Jesus in shorts!"
I had seen first hand dollar signs that seemed to reflect the fact that we hand spent, over a period of years, quite a few dollars at this place. I was assured that this was all paperwork and not to be bothered with by the man of the house, what with my time being better spent creating income that might be better used at paying off jewelry bills.
Sweet. I wonder if they have Ice Cream here?
An hour later, with my wedding band cleaned, sanitized and graded for future possible trade-in value, I walked out of the store with a new watch that not only tells the time, but tells the date. Oh, and this one also tells the day of the week!
And my wife probably got something, but I won't realize it until the shiny rubs off from this new watch.
So, I got that going for me.
(My son looks for something I won't buy him as the kind lady sizes my new watch).
