I've said it before, but it bears repeating...men follow a completely different set of rules. Rules they surely must make up as they go along. Rules that make no sense whatsoever. Because they're men.
Tonight, Mike and I took a trip to town for a little last minute Christmas shopping combined with an outing for Mike's birthday. After an early dinner, we hit nearly every open shop in our little tourist town, including a shopping spree in the gourmet kitchen store. After paying for my purchases, I was anxious to hit the clothing boutiques before closing time. Mike was busy checking out the designer kitchen things (or the craft beers on draft, whatever, it was his birthday.) So, I told him I would be heading to the next little shop on the square. It was in the same direction we'd parked, so it was a logical choice to make. And yes, I use logic. Perhaps more complex logic than man logic, but logic nonetheless. It was important to be sure he knew where I was going because my phone had died. And yes, he knew this very important piece of information.
So, there I am in this little boutique, bumping into their displays, knocking over poinsettias, and checking out the pre-Christmas sales, (basically killing time until Mike wandered in my direction so we could leave). I have no idea how much time passed. I was chatting up the store employees, and scooping up the entire contents of my purse that had accidentally spilled onto the floor.
When the store was ready to close, I wandered back to the sidewalk to look for Mike. He was nowhere to be found. And not only was Mike missing, but the car was gone too.
Yes. The car was gone.
And yes. I'm sure I knew where we parked.
And oh, hell yes. My husband took the car and drove off, knowing my phone was dead.
So, I'm standing there on the semi-deserted sidewalk at closing time, in temperatures that had dipped below freezing, in a coat with no buttons (because my logic doesn't work like that, don't judge me) with a dead cell phone, and no husband to be found. And pissed off is an understatement of the highest order. I was livid...and not just a little freaked out.
But, being the resourceful female that I am, I flagged down a total stranger and begged them to use their cell phone (and lucky for me, I know my husband's number without hitting the auto-dial button).
He had the audacity to tell me he didn't know where I was (though I'd told him where I was going), so he decided the wisest course of action would be to move the car from the spot I would easily find it, to the spot we had been when we parted ways, assuming I would go back there to find him, even after telling him I would meet him at the boutique near the car.
And when I questioned his logic (because, let's face it, it was questionable at best) he told me it was my poor planning (letting my phone die) that caused the whole problem.
Yes, my husband is still alive. It's his birthday, after all, and I felt it would be in poor taste to kill him on his birthday, especially after he'd only just narrowly survived the coming apocalypse. It was a judgment call, not logical perhaps, but, apparently, logic isn't everything.
Until the next time...I'll be rethinking my position on the death penalty.