Awkward Moments

I now have strong reason to conclude that one must never follow one’s husband’s advice.  On the contrary, one must out rightly discard and throw out of the window any and all piece of advice, opinion, and request when it comes from the husband and do exactly the opposite of what the husband pushes you to do.  You think I am exaggerating?  Let me tell you one small anecdote.

My dear husband Hiren asked me to go shopping with him last week.  As much as I hate shopping, I obliged him for the simple reason that his current shoe looked like the “Charan Paduka” of some bygone era and I was very keen to ensure that he got rid of it.  

 My dear husband, to my general displeasure and embarrassment, is gifted with a complicated trait of innocence coupled with childish over confidence.  The dear man is very boisterous and bubbly generally and reaches cloud 9 altogether when he sees a lot of shoes. His excitement for shoes makes me feel that he was a cobbler in previous birth.  Nevertheless, coming back to the incidence, for some strange reason, (may be out of emotional connection to place) of all the places in the world, we decided to shop form the Bata show room in Borivili West.  To begin with, the crowd at the showroom appalled me for there was no place to get in on account of the shop being overcrowded due to monsoon season sale.  

But my dear husband, having decided that he would fulfil my wish of replacing his old ragged shoe, completely discarded my current state of mind and dragged me into the show room like a happy child.  We somehow pushed and shoved and reached the 1^st floor of the show room.  The dear husband happily started checking out the shoes while I tried making room for myself and simultaneously pushing all the scary thoughts of being crushed in the stampede.

All of a sudden my dear husband nudged me with his elbow and pointed towards a man who was also checking out shoes.  For the ease of reference, let us call that man as “Roxy”.  He then asked me to go call Roxy.  I was startled and on high alert.  Being completely aware of the tendency of my dear husband of making friends at the strangest of hour, I asked him why he was interested in striking conversation with this random Roxy in this godforsaken place and that he would have ample opportunity to befriend people later.  The dear husband gave me a patronising look and told me that Roxy was a sales man and that the only reason why he asked me to call Roxy was because he wanted further details about the shoes. 

I asked the dear husband how was he so sure that Roxy was the sales person. The explanation that my dear husband gave made me a new insight of his analytical skills.  He looked at me and then looked at the shoes and happily declared “Look Esha, it is obvious that he is a sales man. He is wearing a earning and intently looking at the shoes. Also, look how he seems to be explaining the characteristic of the shoes to those around him.  You Bengalis are so poor in figuring thing out.  Is in not a matter of common sense that the (a) earrings in his ears; (b) his keen observation of the shoes; and him being surrounded with lades makes him nothing but a sales man?”

I was baffled with his logic but somehow his over confidence impressed upon me and I decided to take a chance with Roxy.  I approached Roxy, patted him on his back and immediately asked him to explain and give all the details of the shoe that the husband was holding.  The husband saw me talking to Roxy from a distance and raised the shoe in his hand so that Roxy could see and figure out which shoe was I talking about. 

To my surprise and embarrassment, Roxy glared at me and asked me, “What makes you think I am the sales person? Don’t you have common sense” I was stumped. Like a fool I blabbered “What What What? Are you really not a sales man?”  He said nothing, and glared at me cruelly and walked away. I guess I heard him muttering “What a lousy woman”.   It was one of the most awkward moment of my life. His statement immensely pained my bong ego.  I angrily turned around and glared back at my dear Husband. My dear husband, in turn, glared at the shoes for some strange reason as if the shoe was responsible for his lot!

I went back to dear husband and hissed, “I made a fool of myself thanks to your brilliant analysis about the sales person”.    As usual, so scared was my dear husband of my wrath that he immediately dropped the shoe and dragged me out with him out of the shoe store for he was scared that I would hit him with the same shoe.  While leaving the mall, when we turned around and looked at the glass window of the shop, we could see ten different men in red t-shirt catering to various customers. We looked at each other and burst out laughing. J

I dragged the dear husband back into the mall so that he could buy the shoes that he liked with a firm resolution that never again in my life will I ever heed his advice regarding the potential professional role of any person. 

In retrospect, I cursed Roxy for there was no need for him to get so offended on being misunderstood as a sales man.  I mean is there not such a thing called as the “dignity of labour”?  I am sure he might be some spoilt Gujju brat of Borivili West.

Anyways, a clear message of all the ladies, please be careful before you heed your husband’s advice. J i