Shopping for Shoes With Boys

I went out with my friend JP today to go shoe shopping.

I'm beginning to think that the belief that guys HATE shopping is a myth, because all the guys that I know--with the exception of Mark--are meticulous shoppers.

JP actually offered to feed me at Pancakehouse just so I would help him pick out his new sneakers.

It's a funny quirk that the two of us have, considering that he has a girlfriend, but he always drags me along when he's about to buy him shoes. For some weird reason, he's never satisfied with a shoe purchase unless it gets my approval.

We met at the mall at around one o'clock, and he offered to pay for lunch. He bought me my usual power lunch at Pancakehouse--bacon waffles, tenderloin steak, and potato salad--just to prep me for the days event. He got the growing boy meal of sirloin steak, two cups of rice, and managed to down a taco (he told me later on that he was full and wanted to give me the taco, but didn't actually think I could eat more...he knows better know)

The meal itself was uneventful. It was just basically me updating him on what happened on the workshop while eating our meals. Me talking a mile an hour while he listened and chewed.

So it became some sort of mystery on why the two of us finished our meals at almost the same time (I took a couple of minutes longer since I had to polish a waffle).

Afterwards, he told me that it wasn't the bill that frightened him, but more of my appetite. Just where does all tha food go?

"I don't understand. You ate more food, yet we finished at almost the same time. You were talking most of the time, but...heck, I saw you cut it into little pieces. You didn't fucking gobble it up...How in the world did you do that?"

But before we could figure that one out (because I for one never question how I eat) we had to solve another dilemma: his shoes.

...

Now, shoe shopping is serious business for most women and I am no exception. But I am a fast shopper, so regular shoe shopping for me takes 30 minutes to an hour.


But if you're shopping for trainers...that's a whole different thing. My foot is a hard fit (I'm a flat footed supinator, duh) so I make sure that I get the proper shoes for the right sport for the right amount of money.

JP told me that he wanted shoes that he could play basketball in and at the same time use on the treadmill. A basketball shoe was out of the question, since it's not a good idea to wear them other than for playing ball. But since he wasn't going to be playing ball all the time and would most likely be spending more time running on the treadmill, I thought a nice set of cross trainers were a good compromise.

We--or rather I spent the first half of the afternoon looking at cross trainers that were comfortable, fashionable, durable and suited to his feet. I am extremly pedantic when it comes to choosing sneakers, since I know how easy it is to get injured by wearing the wrong shoes.

All that went to hell when JP just decided that he was going to ditch the b-ball, spend more time at the treadmill and would most likely be wearing his sneaks with his casual wear.

In short: quit the scientific crap and just pick one that's fuckass cool.

We were both tired from all that walking around (we did a sidetrip at the video store while he meditated on what exactly it was that he wanted. I bought "From Here to Eternity". Classic.) and I just dragged him for a round of guerilla shopping.

It took me 30 minutes to find the perfect shoe that would match most of the outfits--excuse me, clothes--that he owned (thank God I know his style). But that one didn't have his size, so we went to my second and third chose, which were both essentially the same shoe but different colors.

That took 15 minutes, but we finally, finally, bought the damn thing. After seven frigging hours.

One shoe for seven hours. I would say that it's him, but Luis spends above three or four hours whenever he buys his shoe. And he doesn't even take a girl and he already knows which stores he's going to, plus a clear idea on what to use it for and if it'll match his wardrobe.

So it's not just girls after all, guys can be shoe people too!

We got home, dead tired, talking about game four, the Piston's (he's rooting for them too) and Luke Walton: the merits thereof, how he's the spitting image of his dad, and I-can't-believe-you-have-a-crush-on-him.

He doesn't like the Lakers either.

He hung around at my place for a bit and I brought out my camera, taking some pics of him. I thought he'd be an interesting subject, since he's cute and he has that brooding expression.

Two hours of being moved and bossed, he got tired of posing and we both headed out to take pics of my street at night. The lighting was pretty good and I made him pose again so that I could add dimension to my subject.

It was an interesting evening that ended up with him falling asleep on my couch. I ended up calling up Mark to convince him to wake up and just go to bed--at his place.

See? Guys can be all-shopped out too.