Dodging A Curve Ball

Ron Nagasawa
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Wednesday - July 09, 2008
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When am I going to learn? I mean, how many years of marriage is it going to take before I get it? Seems like I have some kind of genetic or gender disposition that has me do things that are instinctively “no-no’s” for my wife.

I am a repeat offender of that, when it comes to grocery shopping. While my wife and I usually do this task together, the runs that occur later in the evening or for stuff we forgot to buy the first time around become my solo shopping missions.

I don’t have a problem with that, as I am then free to purchase items that would have been ruled out if my wife were present. Not that her being there is a bad thing, but I like to enjoy those few little moments of freedom that married men have. (Like saying what I just said - I’ll pay for that one.)

Anyway, I’ll go up and down the aisles, which I’ve done hundreds of times over the years, and pick out stuff I want like beef jerky, Red Bull and Doritos. It’s like I’m stocking up for a fishing trip sans the beer and bait. Just before I hit the register, I’ll pick up one item that I think my wife will like. The other week that item was a box of Curves microwave popcorn.

That’s right, Curves popcorn. In case you don’t know, Curves is an exercise gym franchise exclusively for women. My understanding is that it’s a 30-minute workout routine where you’re not competing with contestants of the Miss Hawaiian Tropics bikini contest.

I guess, like Weight Watchers, Curves now has its own brand of food items. So I bought the popcorn for my wife, thinking that she would be elated and overlook all the junk I bought for myself. When I pulled it out of the bag and handed it to her she looked at me and said, “What’s this?”

I could tell by the look on her face that the product in her hands was an insinuation on my part regarding her physical condition. Brilliant guy that I am, I said, “Oh, that’s mine, I wanted to try out a snack with less calories.” “Yeah, right,” was the look on her face and then she called me on it.

“Why don’t you make some right now and eat it?” she pressed. Without hesitation, I popped it in the microwave and as soon as it was ready started eating it by the handfuls. I would have enjoyed eating styrofoam better. She left the kitchen laughing. Thank God I didn’t buy her the Midol brand of colon-cleansing breakfast cereal.


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