Discombobulation

He didn’t like to think of himself as old, but he really didn’t like shopping.

He did have a bit of a limp, which he tried to hide, that’s when he remembered to do it. They had been in the shopping centre for over an hour, going from shop to shop together. He often considered his wife’s doggedness to keep going without tiring or any sign of losing interest in the activity quite amazing. He figured it was a woman thing. He on the other hand would contrive to find a reason to remain at home when these expeditions came up. However, he really did need to get a new pair of shorts, and it really was up to him to try them on in the shop. He supposed this made sense.

They stopped outside a supermarket. She waved towards the entrance. “You’ll find what you want in there,” she said, with an air of confidence.

“I will?”

“Of course, dear, they sell lots of clothes, including shorts.”

He looked into the horrible vastness of the place. “OK,” he mumbled.

She smiled with just a hint of condescension. “Now, take your time. I won’t be back around to this part of the centre for at least half-an-hour… so you can try on as many as you like.”

He turned and made his way to the security entrance.

“Good luck,” she called.

He looked back and managed a small wave.

Inside the great cavern of a room, notices hung from the ceiling for as far as the eye could see. He couldn’t find one saying ‘Shorts’ anywhere. He wandered aimlessly for a while, actually finding it fascinating that the range and variety of products was so, well… so varied!

“Can I help you,” came a voice out of nowhere.

Startled, he looked around. A uniformed girl was emerging from between isles. He cleared his throat quietly and said, “Yes. I’m looking for men’s shorts.”

She walked out into the main gangway and pointed. “That’s my full men’s area there for you,” she said.

He nodded and moved off quickly. The exchange had left him feeling uneasy, he softly repeated her words back to himself. “That’s my full men’s area there for you,” he whispered.

He kept going until he was far enough away to be able to pause for a while, pretending to be interested in socks. Of course, the incident had taken him by surprise, but it was what she had said. It seemed so… intimate, yet somehow submissive. There was something strange in the way she said it. Certainly, for such a young thing to state that the area was hers was a bit of a stretch. He felt decidedly uncomfortable.

He spent a good thirty minutes walking around clothes hung on racks, without touching any of them. He managed to avoid crossing paths with the girl again, and finally made his way out to find his wife waiting.

He knew she’d be disappointed to see him coming out empty-handed, but as usual her frown turned to a smile. She came forward. “Did you find anything, dear?”

“No.” He looked back at the shop. “I… I was discombobulated.”

“I do wish you wouldn’t talk like that. What happened?”

“There was this girl…”

“Yes? What girl?”

“You know, a shop assistant.”

“Yes, OK dear. What about her?”

“I found her phraseology disturbing.”

She sighed. “There are times when I really don’t understand you. Did you try anything on?”

He shook his head.

At this, she gently put her arm through his and gave a little squeeze, in a manner that confirmed their years of affection for one another, and slowly they made their way out.

He knew that often in the past she had not understood him. He reflected on the fact that discombobulation can come in so many forms. It can come out of the blue, anytime, anywhere… and does.