"Magical time of the year, my ass!" I said to myself while I waited in the mall for my wife to call me on my cell phone.
Here I was at the only mall in this town surrounded by umber-white, cheese eating, un-cultured pig farmers doing their Christmas shopping and my nerves were beginning to wear thin.
My wife, Susan, abandoned me to run to her office for a small medical emergency. That was at 11a.m., it was now 5 p.m. and if I had to hear another damn Christmas carol I was going to snap and go on a shooting spree.
How did I find myself condemned to the land of pig farmers and dairy products you might ask? Well that is a story in itself.
Six months ago, my wife was a plastic surgeon to the stars and I was one of the top talent agents in Hollywood.
We went to movie premieres, went on vacations with movie stars and went to wild parties. You know the kind of parties where people would do coke, drink and have orgies at each other's houses. But I had a mild nervous breakdown and was at risk of having a stroke.
My doctor suggested that I quit my job and move away from Hollywood and my wife agreed with him. So she quit her practice and started a new one here.
I fought her at first about moving. I explained that all of our friends where in Hollywood and how good of a life we had there. But she told me that we could have just as good of a life anywhere else and that the 'friends' in Hollywood only liked us because of our connections. She also said she would do anything to keep me healthy and would make up for dragging me away from my beloved Hollywood. How can you argue with a woman that has your best interest at heart?
Once we got to Iowa, my wife established her new practice and I was able to get a teaching job at a local university in the liberal arts department. It wasn't what I was used to, but at least it kept me from losing my mind completely.
My cell phone rang and I eagerly answered it.
"Where in the hell are you?" I said harshly.
"I'm just pulling into the parking lot, Quinton. I will pick you up at the Dillard's side of the mall." She said calmly, but I could hear her, 'don't get snippy with me', tone in her voice.
"I'm sorry dear, it's just been a long day and I'm tired." I said apologetically.
There was a slight pause and I thought for a moment that she had hung up on me.
Then she broke the silence. "It's okay sweetheart, I would be a little upset too if I was stuck in a mall for six hours. If it makes you feel any better, I have a little surprise for you", she said mischievously over the phone. "So you better hurry up and get out here if you want your surprise."
Before I could say anything else she had ended the phone call.
When my wife acted that way I knew she was up to something, something that I would like.
So I started to move to the other side of the mall. With each step I found myself moving faster and almost ran an old lady over trying to get to the exit.
When I got outside it was snowing and I had a hard time finding my wife's GL550 Mercedes-Benz.
I only had to look for a brief moment when I heard a horn and turn around to see her, flashing the lights at me.
I ran to the SUV and jumped into the passenger seat, getting out of the cold winter's air.
Susan's red hair was neatly pulled back into a bun and she was wearing a very snug white blouse that was unbuttoned just enough to show a little cleavage of her 36D breast. She had also worn a flannel gray skirt that had ridden up her shapely legs to the middle of her thighs and a pair of black knee-high boots. She was always about being in fashion, even if it was minus five degrees outside.
"So what is the surprise you have for me?" I asked.
Not taking her emerald-green eyes off the traffic in front of her she said, "I'm too excited to tell you about it yet. Let me park first then I will tell you about your surprise."
Susan drove around the mall parking lot for about five minutes when she had found a spot, far away from the main entrance.
She put the SUV into park, but left the motor running so we could have the heat on.
Unbuckling her seat-belt, Susan turned in her seat and said, "You know when I left you this morning to go to my clinic? Well I was called by Mrs. Kolowoski. She is one of my biggest clients and she wanted to get some Botox done to her face."
Still not impressed by Susan's remarks I said, "And... this is important to me because?"
"Don't be rude", she scolded me.
I closed my mouth and let my wife finish what she had to say.
"As I was saying, Mrs. Kolowoski needed to have some Botox done to her face for a big costume party she is having in two weeks and we were invited to go", she said.
I lifted one of my eye brows in disbelief and said, "So you kept me in this god-forsaken mall for six hours to tell me we are going to a costume party?"
My wife has the patients of a saint. Most women I know would have slapped me and made me walk home for acting that way, but not Susan. She just smiled at me and placed a finger on my lips to quiet me.
"There's more," she said. "She had me use my panties to R.S.V.P."
