The Invisible Swords of College Conquest

by Thomas M. Pender

College – or, as I’m apt to refer to it, “The Limbo of Life” – was a wonderful and magical sphere of being, where you get to be an adult, but you get to be a kid again, too!  While you are working to better yourself, it’s also the first time you get to be on your own (assuming you go away to school, as I did) to really find out who you are.  It’s also a great place to meet all kinds of people, and learn what kinds of friends you really wish to have!

To no one’s shock, my chosen friends were all loons.

My freshman year, while being incredibly challenging and lesson-teaching (mostly the outside-the-classroom-lessons-of-Life kind), was made up of nine straight months of laughter and adventure, centered around a goofy crew of a few close-knit men who made the most – and the most fun – of any and every situation.

Dating rituals, for example.  While I have no doubt that those I met and chose as friends were polite gentlemen on their dates (although they’d never admit it back then, whilst trying to maintain their coolness), in our women-free zone of male bonding time, we had great fun discussing upcoming dates, successful dates, women of interest and certainly attractive complete strangers who passed our way.  One ritual that just kind of “happened” was the sword brandishing.

On a random day when one of us in the group was discussing an upcoming date, a successful date or a woman of interest, someone . . . most likely Terry “Trigger” Thompson . . . pulled an invisible sword from an invisible sheath attached to his invisible belt, made the sound of a sword being drawn, held it invisibly aloft and made a sort of pirate-y cry of triumph.

Those of us in attendance proceeded to immediately bust our collective guts, love the action, and mimic the action.  A tradition was born.

After that, whenever one of us had an upcoming date, a successful date or had met a woman of interest to talk about, however many of us in attendance would immediately draw our invisible swords (complete with sound effects, of course!), invisibly clang them together, and re-insert them.

Silly?  Yes.  Immature?  Granted.  Fun and memorable boy fun?  Yar!

As is the case with everything that went on during that incredible year, the tradition has faded as friends have gone their ways.  Still, I know for a fact that the men these kids have become have a silly and raucous side to them, hidden beneath their business neckties and barbecuing aprons.  Should two or more of us meet up, and one have a piece of good news to share, I have no doubt that those in attendance will find that the swords of triumph, first wielded in the dormitories of Michigan State, are still firmly affixed.

Huzzah!

Shoe Department Stereotype Slayers

by Thomas M. Pender

Some facts about myself: 1) I’m not very bold in the “stir up the social hornet’s nest” department, 2) in general, I admire, love and respect women for who they are and what they do, and 3) in general, my own gender tends to embarrass me for its “straight from the cave” practices.  Understanding all of this, I would never report that women have no right to say that men are sloppy – and certainly sloppier than women! – without evidence.

And evidence I have.

I work in a department store, where part of my job is to restore (pun absolutely intended) departments to their original neatness after a full day of customer attacks.  I was initially shocked and appalled by the tornados that had apparently whipped through the ladies’ clothing and shoe departments!  After some observation time, I’ve concluded that this is just the way it is.  I’m guessing that since ladies tend to keep their households up well for familial safety, comfort and health, as well as public scrutiny, they must blow off steam when in public arenas where they know that someone else will have to shoulder the storm.

Being assigned the women’s shoe department, as I am on occasion, is a bit of a gut check, particularly on weekends.  You know what’s waiting for you.  Let me draw you a picture, so you understand the depth of my shock and awe: five aisles, each sandwiched between two stacks of six rows which are initially filled with pairs of ladies’ dress, casual, tennis, deck and other various types of shoes.  Each morning, as the store opens, the shoes are neatly stocked on the shelves.  Each evening, with various levels of horror, an average of half the shoes are strewn about the benches and floor, left where they were set or tossed aside or hurled aside by normally socially-conscious ladies.  If you didn’t know you were dealing with adults, you would swear you walked into a teenager’s bedroom, since you cannot see the floor for the mess spread on it.

To quote Joseph Conrad, “The horror!  The horror!”

In contrast, the men’s shoe department is one of the easiest departments to arrange.  There will be a few pairs of shoes on the floor each night, but only a few.  The most common exercise in men’s shoes is turning the shoes on the shelves from “toes in” to “toes out.”  The men who patronize our store are just as much in the public eye and away from their homes as the women are, yet it’s the ladies we caretakers dread.  Their behavior in the dress, pants and tops departments are not much more impressive.  These women come to shop and they come to litter!

The part that stumps me the most is what must go on early in the day.  I understand that if you walk into a store in which the merchandise is already carpeting the floor, you would not feel inclined to be tidy.  The patrons who come in during the late afternoon and early evening must just feel that it’s acceptable within the walls of our business that people have no respect.  Yet, I continually wonder who these folks are that come into the store first thing, see an orderly area, and figure they’ll just toss around a few things and leave them where they land.  I’d love to witness this first patron one day, just so I can say, “Really?”

There may be other stores and other businesses inside which men throw caution to the wind and behave like Vikings, while the ladies sit with their kit-gloved hands neatly folded in their laps and shake their heads.  I’d be the first to shake my social finger at these men.  Still, this wouldn’t exactly be a “man bites dog” headline.  When the ladies toss caution – and shoes! – aside, this gets my attention.

And ladies, you have been caught.  Take a moment while refraining from criticizing men’s tidiness to look into your full-length mirror at your own habits, inside and outside the home and store.  Admit there are days when “sugar and spice and everything nice” just does not describe you.

Most importantly, if the shoe fits, wear it.  If it doesn’t fit, put the damn thing BACK!!!!