A Marriage Proposal of Sorts

I thought my boyfriend would never ask. I mean for crying out loud, we’ve known each other for six years and we’ve been living together for almost three. I couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever ask. He’s been getting it for free for-EVER. I would never say it out loud but I was feeling a little, shit or get off the pot.

Last week we went to Costco to pick up a few bulky things, that we really didn’t need. As soon as we walked in, my boyfriend realized that he had forgotten his card, so off we went to customer service, to get a temporary card. And that’s when it happened. “Hey, let’s get an additional card for you. Might as well, right.” My heart started pounding, I flushed like a little girl, and I’m pretty sure that was a tear rolling down my cheek. “Do you mean it? You want me on your Costco account?” He rolled his eyes and gave me that familiar look of, what is wrong with you.

Okay, so it was only a Costco card, but it felt like a marriage proposal. We were married in the eyes of Costco as far as I was concerned. It didn’t matter that my boyfriend was oblivious to this simple transaction. And the bonus was that my picture came out great. Of course it’s black and white and the size of a raisin, but that’s when I look the best.

This Costco marriage continued when we soldiered on to Macy's. After buying a salad spinner, yes mother, I know I could’ve gotten it cheaper pretty much anywhere else, but I had a coupon, so back it up lady.

For the record, I detest shopping for clothes. I always have and I suspect that I always will. My boyfriend is much better at it. After I tried on several pairs of pants, that did nothing for my derriere and even less for my ego, we shifted focus to my boyfriend and his pursuit of a linen suit.

The next several hours, yes, I did just write several, I followed him around like a good little Geisha. I cradled potential slacks and shirts in my arms, searched the entire first floor for an available alterations expert, and collected receipts from my Costco husband so they wouldn’t end up as shriveled paper balls in the dryer. I sat on the faux leather banquette, outside of the dressing room, with other Geisha’s, and waited for my master’s fashion show. I felt like a complete and utter WIFE.

Upon returning home, I took one last fall when I said the following, to my boyfriend, “Wow, that’s a nice garbage pail that you bought. It’s really big and looks sturdy.” Why don’t I just sew up my lady parts, put on an apron and call it a day.

On second thought honey, I don’t want my own Costco card. It’s the devil’s spawn.