Nylons and joys of marriage
Over the weekend my wife sent me out to pick up some groceries. On this list was some hair spray and a pair of nylons. I didn’t find any nylons in the grocery store so I walked next door to the new Shoppers drug mart. I found the Nylons and searched dilligently for a pair that met all the specificications I was given. Size check, colour check, reinforced toe check etc… It took a long time and I was starting feel a bit weird deep behind feminine lines. When I finally discovered the perfect pair I headed straight for the counter relieved that I had no unfortunate mishaps or awkward questions. I picked up a Coke for something to drink and something else to give the cashier. I get to the cashier and she startings ringing me through. Then it came. A question that I really didn’t want to have to answer. “Are you sure these are going to fit you?” How do you answer that? I fumbled something about how I just got married and my wife had sent me out to pick up this stuff. Did she believe me? Did she think I was a cross-dresser…probably not, I’m 6′ 6″ and I’d probably have get some oppressed sweatshop workers in Indonesia to create nylons that would fit me.
Needless to say Carol can get her own nylons from now on.
When I told her this story she didn’t comfort me, she just laughed at me until she couldn’t move anymore. Later on that weekend she beat me at Stockticker and has been reminding me ever since.