We Do It All For Them
I don’t think there is a woman in the world, who doesn’t sit up and take notice when she opens a newspaper or watches an ad on television that says…“GRAND OPENING, new shopping center.” And when this information is ac- companied by the word “SALE,” it has a very strange affect on women. Whether she needs something new or not, just the fact that it is on sale, makes buying something new a necessity. And checking out all the new shopping centers is certainly a necessity. Saving our husbands money is always first and foremost in our minds. Men seem to think that shopping and spending money is fun. They don’t realize the misery we have to go through to save that 30 percent, at a shopping center, 50 miles away from home.
The new Tabor Center opened recently in Denver. So, in the tradition of being a frugal wife and shopper, it was absolutely necessary to find enough women to fill the car, who were willing to give up their housework and submit themselves to a day of shopping misery.
The first problem arose when all the women, who were willing to sacrifice their day for their husbands, lived in different towns. Georgia lives in Loveland. Debe in Longmont, Mary in Johnstown, and myself (I hang my house coat in rural Greeley). Now there wasn’t a simple solution to this problem. This situation took a lot of organizing and planning. The problem was finally solved by agreeing to the country shuttle bus (my car). We agreed that the country shuttle bus would pick up Loveland at Johnson’s Corner, Longmont at Del Camino’s, and Johnstown at the Broomfield turnoff Sounds simple, but no such luck, this is when it got complicated. I missed the 120th Street turnoff even with the help of two back seat ¡drivers. After driving at least 10 miles out of my way in Denver traffic, I finally made it back to the turn I was supposed to take in the first place. And sure enough there was Johnstown, waiting patiently in the parking lot of the Holiday Inn. A true believer in the shopping cause.
Driving in downtown Denver is a pretty tramatic experience, too. Especially for a middle aged country girl from Weld County. One- way streets, 16th Street Mall, and construction on every corner is enough to make you want to drink your lunch at 10 o’clock in the morning. The information clerks in the car didn’t help matters either. They knew where they wanted to go, but didn’t know how to get there.
After finding a parking lot that didn’t have a “full” sign. I happily gave the keys to the car to a perfect stranger, and we set off on the big adventure. First we packed ourselves in downtown Denver’s latest convenience, the mall shuttle bus. If someone would have put oil on us, we could have been sold for sardines It was so crowded on that bus that I am sure that the people in the middle are still riding up and down the mall, waiting for a chance to escape during one of their three-second stops.
We were truly impressed with the glitter of Denver’s newest shopping center. A lot of pretty people and a lot of expensive shops. It didn’t take long for us to notice that a pair of funky blue jeans cost $62 and the stores had forgot- ten to have their “SALE” signs printed. To me, walking into a shopping center without “SALE” signs is like walking into church without pews (you don’t want to stay very long). An hour in glitterville was long enough and we decided to have lunch and head for the Northglenn “SALE” signs.
Lunch plans aren’t always as pleasant as you might think. Four women trying to make the decision on where to eat lunch can get as complicated as Reagan and his cabinet, trying to figure out how to reduce the national debt. Husbands do not realize that this is the most miserable part of shopping. They think we en- joy sitting in a nice restaurant, stuffing our face with expensive food, while our feet are hurting. And having a degree in mathematics is a must, when it’s time to pay the check.
After lunch and more than a few wrong turns getting out of Denver and fighting 1-25 traffic, we finally made it to Northglenn Mall. Now trying to keep track of four women in the land of “SALE” signs is like giving four 5 year old kids two dollars each and taking them to Lionel Playworld to buy something. You don’t know where in the heck they will be next.
So, as long as the men keep building new shopping centers, the women will have to keep punishing themselves by getting dressed up, leaving the kids, dirty house, and laundry and going out in the cold world of traffic, stores and restaurants. Only to face the agony of finding the right shopping center with the biggest and most “SALE” signs. Think about it girls, we make the supreme sacrifices…just for them.
