We’re driving to a friends house for some Memorial Day antics.
him: so I found the [golf] driver I want.
me: I know.
him: Nooooooo, I told you about last years model and this years is out and it’s only $50 dollars more.
me: so you’re telling me that instead of spending $X, you want to spend ($x+$50).
him: Uh. Yeah. But I didn’t want to come right out and say it was ($x+50)
me: I choose when I’m bad at math but I don’t tell you when I’m good at math.
him: Oh.
So now we’re at the golf store.
me: why don’t you just drop me off at the mall (directly across the parking lot) and you call me when you’re ready because I don’t want to stand around while you test drive.
him, pouting: You don’t want to spend time with me?
me: Me standing around while you talk golf hardly constitutes spending time together. If you’re going to go in, pick up the club and then leave, fine, I’ll hang out.
Forty-five minutes later, I’m still in the sporting goods store.
him: I’m in trouble aren’t I.
me: I am trying on SO MANY shoes at Kohl’s and I’m not going to buy any of them. Oh, and by the way, how do I look today?
him, conceding: You look good.
me: *hair flip*