Years ago, when I was married to Carole, the two of us went shopping at the Neiman Marcus store in the Galleria here in Dallas . She was looking at women’s clothes, and I got caught up looking at some beautiful Bobby Jones golf shirts. There was one shirt that particularly caught my attention. It has a beautiful dark blue color with very light red stripes. The material was so soft I just could not believe it.
I kept rubbing the material and visualizing how wonderful it would feel to be wearing that shirt – not to mention how good it would make me look. However, the price tag was a very steep $125. I kept debating if I should purchase the shirt or not. My debate came to a crashing end when Carole returned to see what had my attention.
She said something to the effect, “You can forget that! You are not paying $125 for a golf shirt!”. She did not care all that much about golf anyway. Since she was not paying for the shirt, I felt that was a little strange of her telling me what I could or could not spend my hard earned money on.
Well, we left the store that day without that gorgeous shirt, but the shirt was stuck somewhere in my cranium between a really wonderful round of golf and a rib-eye steak. Many months passed, and the dream of owning that shirt lost its appeal. Carole was correct once again – I’m not paying $125 for the most gorgeous golf shirt I had ever laid my eyes on!
Months later, when I was home for the week and not on the road teaching an Oracle software class, Carole made a doctor’s appointment for me. She was very good about that, and her organizational skills are spectacular.
She could run GM, Chase Bank, or any other major corporation for that matter. When she told me about my doctor’s appointment, I realized the doctor’s office was close to the Neiman Marcus store that STILL HAD MY SHIRT HANGING THERE!
I could not wait to go to the doctor’s office! I even left a little EARLY, which is highly irregular for me. I’m worse than my two small Chihuahuas when it comes to seeing doctors. That must have been what tipped Carole off to my plan.
Since I was already in the neighborhood close to Neiman Marcus, I thought I’d just drop by and take another look at that Bobby Jones shirt, and see if the one I loved so much was still there. As a matter of fact, it looked like they were all still there. At $125 a pop, go figure!
I was standing there at the Bobby Jones shirt rack having a grand time of dreaming of wearing that shirt. No wife to harass me or talk me out of my purchase this time. I was taking my sweet time. I kept rubbing the very soft material, and was holding the shirt up in the air.
I imagined wearing it during my next round of golf, and shooting my best round ever. I was picturing me rolling in a long putt, and my playing partners saying something like, “Pete, that was a great putt, but where did you get that shirt?” But, suddenly my dream was interrupted.
A young Neiman Marcus salesman standing behind the counter shouted to me, “Sir! Is your name Pete Cassidy?” I was speechless. After all of those years of teaching Oracle classes and winning just about every conceivable teaching and speaking award, my first thought was, “Wow! I’m finally getting the recognition I so justly deserve!” But I happened to notice he was holding his department’s telephone in his right hand, and he was covering the mouth piece with his left hand.
I thought that was a little odd. Who in the world knew that I was at Neiman Marcus looking at my soon to be purchased Bobby Jones shirt? Then it hit me like a Mack Truck going 80 mph in a school zone. No, it couldn’t be! Or, could it be? I replied to the salesman, “Yes, I am Pete Cassidy.”
So, he told me the call was for me, and handed the telephone to me. I was speechless and had the look of a deer caught in the headlights of a car, when I heard my wife’s voice. She said, with absolutely no uncertainty at all, “YOU GET YOUR BUTT TO THE DOCTOR’S OFFICE RIGHT NOW BUSTER, AND DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT BUYING THAT SHIRT!”
It’s just not fair! Guys, in case you have not discovered it yet, WOMEN CAN READ OUR MINDS!
Several moths later, I did purchase the shirt, and it hangs proudly on a hanger in my closet today. I still rub that shirt now and then, and I have only worn it three or four times since my purchase. I still feel guilty about buying that shirt.
**Excerpt from my autobiography, “That Reminds Me of a True Story“.
NO PUBLISHER YET CAUSE I’M STILL WRITING!
© 2011, Pierre Cassidy. All rights reserved.