I married That Guy. That Guy, who is so not metrosexual that it is a source of humor and sadness for me, at the same time. He's the guy who shops at Kohls for Dockers, or Men's Warehouse, or (ugh) JC Penney. He thinks this is what makes him look not douchey. He has also been saying he's a 50 year old man, since he was 41. Still not 50 dude. You probably got it now, I don't need to mention the bizarre eyebrows.
But what I don't understand is that he works in Marketing. Aren't these usually the guys that know better?
(ps: my cat is munching his toe nails behind me right now as I type, I'm trapped by gross men)
So last week I swear I heard angels singing. Mr. Right was offered a job after his 9 week hiatus (aka playing Call to Duty on the Wii and naps at 6:30 pm). This offer is to work at a European car company, in Marketing...
he came to me and said (I should have been warned here because I actually lost my breath) that he needed me to take him shopping to pick out some more "hip" clothes. Apparently, things are different at EUROPEAN car companies. I decided to downplay it and tell him that the fact he used the word hip, meant it was going to be painful. I clarified "you don't mean 'hip replacement clothes' right?"... "we're talking... Club Monaco, Banana, Nordstrom... right?".
Since that conversation, I have been trying not to scare it. I'm being gentle. Today is the day we should go shopping, but I'm going to wait for him to come and sniff my hand. I'm careful not to look him directly in the eye, just be patient. Sometimes it's best to go slow with the feral ones.