Before I start this I need to point out that I am a male and therefore do not enjoy shopping – it’s coded in our DNA, and therefore no females are allowed to hate me for this. This weekend I walked around more aimlessly in a mall, than Pierre Spies in a whole rugby game. It was long and seemed to go on forever with no clear end in sight. All guys know what I’m talking about; if you’re in a mall for longer than half an hour, and your partner talks to you, you grunt constantly and refer to anything that they show to you as ‘nice’. But sometimes I like it. And I mean like by drinking beforehand – after that we know more about fashion than Calvin Klein and can differentiate between Louis Vuitton and Elizabeth Taylor – this is gibberish to me at the moment. I have nothing against shopping, just one question; why do girls need to check out every store for something? I go into one store, pick up four shirts, pants, a watch I’m never going to wear, and a straw hat… done! We don’t need to check out the rest, we already have all our shit and we want to leave or have a drink. Girls on the other hand need to check out every single store to see if it fits, if it complements their eyes, if it has a warranty and if it has a tag showing which brand it is to the world. I know I’m stereotyping like a crazy person, but there are people out there who like it – they ‘live’ in malls and visit them each week like it’s a lover inmate. Now, back to the point. Shopping for me is like shaving – I don’t like it – I prefer not to do it and say I did. As I was walking around in the mall like my Pierre Spies reference above, I noticed that I was not alone in this daring adventure, similar minded counterparts were trekking along and grunting at any store that had a 5% discount in the window. I like to think of it as our defense mechanisms; we grunt at shops we don’t want to visit, if it sells women’s clothes we grunt, if it has electronics in the window with action figures we’ll suddenly look slightly amused with a child-like smile begging to come out. We keep it in tact because we’re men, and manly men don’t smile in a mall – unless you wear a Moonbag of course. I’ll leave you with this: shopping is like buying and listening to a Good Charlotte album; everyone tells you it was awesome and that you should buy it. You purchase it, pop it in your music player only to find out you’ve been deceived and betrayed. It has gone from good to bad in a matter of seconds. You feel alone and the feeling reminds you a lot of being kicked in the balls… You can find me next week Saturday in a mall, crawled up next to the information booth crying and screaming: ‘Make it Stop’ with tears running down to my blistered feet.