Not Going Well
It is not going well, I am certain. Not going well because I am standing in Rite-Aid at 6 PM on a Friday afternoon. Not going well because I am standing in Rite-Aid at 6 PM on a Friday afternoon looking for an anniversary present. Not just any anniversary. The biggest one we have had yet. Double digits. Ten.
When i was ten years old my mom gave me a key to the house. So ten is pretty frickin important. And it is a long time. And when you think about it, had i been thinking about it, I knew on June 19, 1995 that on June 19, 2005, I would celebrate anniversary number 10. So this is a day that is ten years in the making.
And I am without a gift.
The thing about rite Aid is you can find lots of things here. Christmastime the place is loaded up with crappy gift items, and I guess I am hoping that one of those are still here. But it is not. Gone long ago on the half off table. They have DVDs, but nothing good. Nothing that says thanks for sticking around for ten years. Nothing that says thanks for making dinner for ten years. Nothing that says thanks for having sex every once in a while with me for the last ten years. Nothing that is going to get me any later tonight either.
I could give her a pen. There are a lot of pens at Rite-Aid. Ten to a pack, even. Diane Court gave Lloyd Dobbler a pen after he told her he loved her. But then she broke up with him.
There are pantyhose, in all kinds of shapes and sizes, but I don't think pantyhose would cut it for mother's day, let alone an anniversary. And a trashy novel is too grab-bag gift for this event. Chocolate might be a big hit, but not if it comes in an orange wrapper and says Reese's Peanut Butter Cups on the package.
There are cards, but they suck. Nothing that says what i want it to say. Which i am not even sure what it is, other than why don't you keep on living here for a while and I love you and I don't know what else.
Totally clueless.
Here is the worst part. If I was in the mall, and had an unlimited charge card, and an unlimited selection. I still wouldn't know what to get her.
After ten years. Man, am I F***ed.
When i was ten years old my mom gave me a key to the house. So ten is pretty frickin important. And it is a long time. And when you think about it, had i been thinking about it, I knew on June 19, 1995 that on June 19, 2005, I would celebrate anniversary number 10. So this is a day that is ten years in the making.
And I am without a gift.
The thing about rite Aid is you can find lots of things here. Christmastime the place is loaded up with crappy gift items, and I guess I am hoping that one of those are still here. But it is not. Gone long ago on the half off table. They have DVDs, but nothing good. Nothing that says thanks for sticking around for ten years. Nothing that says thanks for making dinner for ten years. Nothing that says thanks for having sex every once in a while with me for the last ten years. Nothing that is going to get me any later tonight either.
I could give her a pen. There are a lot of pens at Rite-Aid. Ten to a pack, even. Diane Court gave Lloyd Dobbler a pen after he told her he loved her. But then she broke up with him.
There are pantyhose, in all kinds of shapes and sizes, but I don't think pantyhose would cut it for mother's day, let alone an anniversary. And a trashy novel is too grab-bag gift for this event. Chocolate might be a big hit, but not if it comes in an orange wrapper and says Reese's Peanut Butter Cups on the package.
There are cards, but they suck. Nothing that says what i want it to say. Which i am not even sure what it is, other than why don't you keep on living here for a while and I love you and I don't know what else.
Totally clueless.
Here is the worst part. If I was in the mall, and had an unlimited charge card, and an unlimited selection. I still wouldn't know what to get her.
After ten years. Man, am I F***ed.
posted by Air Time at 7:34 PM
6 Comments:
Awesome post. Keep me posted because pretty soon I'll be approaching the big '10' and will without a doubt be in the same predicament. Well, not really the same. You see, no matter how deperate I'll be, I can't see myself in Duane Read seeking last-minute inspirations.
3 words baby!!!!
Louis Vitton Handbag
If I recall correctly, some Rabbi spoke under the chupah- about the finality and the totality of marriage, and how it was forever.
Its been 10 years since I stood under the Chupah at your wedding and said- "there is no way, I can ever get married"
Im celebrating 7, on Wednesday. Pickle Juice and all.
If only your wife liked cute little animal earrings, you wouldn't have a problem.
Love the Say Anything reference.
I didn't get him anything either.
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