- This is the story of how my husband got mugged in Shoppers
Drug Mart.
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- It wasn't his fault, I suppose. On certain matters, he
is as innocent as a newborn babe. Although he is a master of the infield-fly
rule and can lucidly explain the neutral-zone trap, he should not be allowed
to roam around unsupervised at cosmetics counters. In other words, he's
a genuine guy.
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- Genuine guys are sometimes known as retrosexuals, to
distinguish them from metrosexuals, who are men with the good taste of
gay men, only they're straight. Metrosexuals are scrupulous about their
grooming and are great consumers of men's cosmetic products. They use hair
gel. Retrosexuals are scared of hair gel. Some people think that retrosexuals
automatically have Neanderthal views about women, but this is not the case.
A retrosexual is simply someone who doesn't know the difference between
teal and aqua, and frankly couldn't give a damn.
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- Secretly, I've always thought that my husband could stand
to be just a little bit more metro. Sometimes I buy him fancy shaving cream
or scent with a designer name, and leave it suggestively on his side of
the sink. He never gets the hint. He prefers a 10-second dry shave, with
a plastic disposable razor and toilet paper to staunch the wounds. If he's
really in the mood he shaves with soap. He doesn't like anything too smelly.
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- From time to time, my husband's retrosexuality bothers
me. For example, he can't understand why it's time to paint the kitchen
when we just painted it nine years ago. He doesn't get why we need expensive
matchstick blinds on all the kitchen windows, because we leave them permanently
rolled up. He's baffled that my haircuts cost 10 times more than his do,
and he thinks massages are a waste of time, unless it was the one he got
from two Thai masseuses on the beach at Phuket. There are many things on
which we'll never see eye to eye.
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- But there are certain advantages to my husband's retrosexual
orientation, and they are large. For example, being completely indifferent
to appearance, a retrosexual will never complain that you're putting on
weight. This is one of the foundation stones of a good marriage. Also,
it's easy to impress him with your culinary prowess. My husband is so grateful
to get out of kitchen duty that he brags about my cooking, even though
it's usually quite lousy. In return, he allows me to weasel out of certain
household tasks like garbage duty and replacing light bulbs. He knows it's
his job to talk to plumbers and electricians, man to man. We are aware
that we have lapsed into tired gender stereotypes. We don't care. We only
wish there were a third gender to clean the kitty litter. We have resolved
our primal conflicts over housework by employing a cleaning lady and drastically
lowering our (okay, my) standards in between her visits. This is another
foundation stone of a good marriage.
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- In a way, I blame myself for the mugging in the Shoppers
Drug Mart. I never should have let him go alone. Something similar would
have happened if I'd wandered into Future Shop all by myself and tried
to buy a fancy new TV. The chance of a good outcome was remote.
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- The trouble began when he noticed that his shins were
dry and itchy. (He blames his new ski socks.) So he went off to Shoppers
to get something to rub on them. Instead of heading for the aisle filled
with Jergens, Keri Lotion and Vaseline, he stopped at the cosmetics counter
and asked the cute girl there for her advice. "Moisturizer,"
he said. "I need moisturizer. I don't want anything smelly. I don't
want to smell like a girl."
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- He was quite excited when he got home. "This will
do the trick," he said. "It's got lipidins in it." I asked
him what lipidins were, and he said the cosmetics consultant told him they
lock in your natural moisture. He proudly showed me a small plastic bottle
filled with something called Vichy Re-Lipidising Body Cream-Fluid. It came
in a special aqua-coloured tote bag. According to the label, the ingredients
included genuine Vichy thermal-spa water from France, which probably explains
why the bottle cost $43.
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- "You've been mugged," I said.
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- "I thought it was a bit expensive," he confessed.
He was too intimidated to complain about the price. He didn't know that
he could have got exactly what he needed (minus the Vichy water and the
lipidins) for $3.99.
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- Naturally, I've teased him mercilessly ever since. But
the truth is, I really have no interest in men who are interested in skin
care. That can be my job. In return, I'm happy to let them worry about
the oil level in the car. Some might call this sexist. I call it a sensible
division of labour, and it is one of the chief benefits of marriage. Each
of you can specialize. And each of you can sometimes get away with acting
like a helpless bunny.
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- Not surprisingly, my husband was too embarrassed to take
back his re-lipidising cream, and today he's probably the only male in
the world who's rubbing it on his itchy shins. "I'm locking in my
moisture," he says defiantly.
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- I don't have the heart to tell him it makes him smell
like a girl.
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- © 2004 Bell Globemedia Publishing Inc. All Rights
Reserved.
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