Somebody Tell Victoria Her Secret Is Out
by James Snyder
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For all practical purposes the Christmas season is the shopping season. When it comes to shopping, just call me Mr. Doofus Glitz, especially at the Christmas season.
Some people (such as the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage) have mastered the finesse of shopping, especially at the mall. If I wore a hat, I reverently would take it off to these people.
Unlike me, they have faced the ugly Mall Monster and not only defeated him, but made him their servant. These shopping conquistadors deserve all the respect we can give them, as well as several credit cards.
When it comes to buying Christmas presents, I honestly never know what to buy. When I do purchase a gift, I go into a panic worrying whether the person will like it or if it will fit.
I cannot tell you how many times, after buying a gift, I have in trepidation returned it for a refund. One year, I bought the same gift 12 times before the salesperson refused to wait on me anymore.
This past week, though, I braced myself, made sure my life insurance and will were up to date and headed for the mall to do some Christmas shopping. I had put it off long enough and the time had come to go.
My mission, which I was foolish enough to accept, centered on purchasing a Christmas gift for my wife. I guess I should explain that my wife and I have an amicable agreement when it comes to Christmas shopping: I give her my checkbook and then disappear for the day while she shops.
It has been a rousing success except one thing n I still have to buy her a Christmas present.
I have known her for almost 35 years and still have trouble in the gift-giving department. Once I gave her a lovely wristwatch and she seemed pleased with my choice. So I gave her another one n four years in a row.
Being a gracious lady, she did not call attention to this repeat until year five. Then, she subtly drew my attention to the fact that she had enough wristwatches by wearing them all at one time n just before the Christmas shopping season.
Being an astute husband, I took the hint, which left me again to wonder what to buy her this year. What do you get someone who has everything?
After all, she has me — what more could anyone ask for?
This year I determined to rise above my glitzness and purchase the perfect gift for my wife. Bolstered with indomitable determination, as well as my credit cards, I set out to accomplish my mission no matter the cost.
Someone said the Paddock Mall was the appropriate place to go. Not only was I determined to get the perfect gift for my life’s companion and mother to my children, but this year I wanted to add a new dimension. This year I aspired to put a little romance into my holiday acquisition.
Had I thought this project through, I would have realized just how foolish this sort of thing was for me n Mr. Glitz.
Unfortunately, no amount of reason could impede my festive gift-hunting fetish. My mind fastened on success n no matter what.
I arrived at the mall early. Admittedly, I was a little nervous so I treated myself to a cup of coffee and a donut. After all, this was a special occasion and I was not going to spare anything in this fiesta quest.
With plenty of time on my hands, (I reserved the entire day for this adventure), I could take my time and maybe, just maybe I could learn to enjoy mall shopping n or at least survive it.
Not knowing how to properly conduct myself in a mall, I decided to sit down on a bench and watch the shoppers. I thought I might pick up some tips on mall shopping. Before I knew it, it was lunchtime and I was ravenous.
This kind of work really makes a person hungry. Around 3 p.m., I finally settled down to my task. I soon found myself wandering in and out of shop after shop, not really focusing on anything I thought would suit her. Every shop began looking like the last shop until I was shocked out of my gala glaze, never to return.
I found myself in a place called Victoria’s Secret. I’ll tell you, somebody ought to tell Victoria her secret is out. I could not believe such a place existed at a public mall. Are such places legal in this country?
My face turned as red as the diaphanous lingerie they had hanging by padded hangers n and my feet were just as shocked. When my feet finally came to their senses, they quickly carried me to safety, wherein I escaped the mall as though the hounds of hell were nipping at my heels.
In the safety of my office, I wondered if God had the same problem when it came to giving gifts.
What could God really give? Then it dawned on me. “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” (John 3:16 KJV.)
I may never find the perfect gift for my wife, but I have found the perfect gift n Jesus Christ.
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I was wondering what you bought your wife also. Here I thought, finally I will have some idea what to buy my wife. I do know that you don't buy your wife a sewing machine for Valentine's Day. It's been almost ten years now and she still hasn't forgotten. Chuck
I (was) really enjoying the scene here, having had my share of "did you take your meds today?" at the mall. I liked the way you brought the reader along with you. I became a witness to your social crime. I would like to see this story "change gears" a little more smoothly though. The transition from your gift to His gift, although timely and always true, seemed hurried. As if you had two minutes to finish writing before you had to leave for an appointment. The time spent on the title seemed short, too short; that is, I would likely have set the scene a little more aggressively leading up to it being revealed to you that Victoria reveals more. Also, I didn't understand the "n" that drifted aimlessly around the sentences, I'm confused. Other than that, it was fun; I love anecdotal stories and you had me wondering, just what did you buy her?