I've been Malled

The cash flood gates seem to be open wide this season of the Yuletide. However, behind the orgy of monetary output is a well controlled fiscal policy. My wife and I are a team. We consult on almost every purchase and certainly on the high dollar ones. This action has prevented a great deal of stress in our marriage. We are a team.
The boolean expression of this relationship would be:
A OR (A+B)= Purchase
Where:
A is my wife
B is me
If we both want something we usually purchase it. If she wants something, we usually purchase it. If only I want something, it frequently remains on the shelf. I don't mean to say that she runs roughshod over me, it's just that she has an uncanny ability to convince me that I need the same thing she wants and I don't need the thing that she doesn't want.
Just yesterday we made an excursion to Kelowna. The primary goal of this outing was to attend a Christmas get together for my compatriots. After nibbling far too much we ventured to the biggest mall in the city and immediately went different directions. I was able to purchase a couple small gifts to round out this years items and spent a great deal of time meandering through various shops.
I was to windows shoppers what King Kong is to a monkey. I was totally consumed with consuming. My avarice for all things material was so incredible that I am sure that any tree hugging lets-keep-the-world-cold nutball would have beat me to death with their protest sign if they had got but a glimpse of what was in my mind's eye. The 42” Plasma screen, the personal video recorder, the Dolby Digital Amplifier, and the ..... Wait. A hot tub shop!!!
My wanton desire for a hot tub is a decade and a half long. This quest has always been plagued by the same problem. Without the slightest effort, every hot tub salesman has been able to upsell me until I am so up there that I pass out. Yes! I need the biggest tub. Yes! I need the 2567 jets. Yes! They have to be powerful enough to de-bone chicken. Yes! I need the 1200 Watt sound system. Yes! I need the remote control. On and on it goes until I won't settle for anything less. By then I am sooooo out of my price range I have to take a taxi to get back.
It never deters me from looking. This day was no different. I stroked the side of the tub. I imagined the warmth of the water and the jets burrowing into my old tired flesh. I imagined peace and long sought serenity.
A pang of hunger jolted me from my reverie and I set off to find my chosen. With the aid of a cell phone call we were able to meet up and have a quick bite. It was then time to leave the mall, the big city, and return home.
The path to our car was not precipitous and we allowed ourselves to tarry and look at things that we had missed in our journey deep into the bowels of the complex. I was suddenly aware that my bride of all these years was no longer beside me. Surprised, I wheeled around and spotted her eying a hot tub in the very shop that I had attended not long ago. She began to ask the manager some questions on one unit and then was directed to the back where another unit and indeed the very unit that I had been stroking stood in the corner. She glanced at it dismissively and then asked the lady “What is this?” pointing to a chunk of foam to the right.
“That's a Softub” she replied. She then launched into a litany of highlights about this smurf tub. My wife's interest seemed to peak. I smiled to myself. Here comes the upsell. But wait... it didn't happen. The sales women started to down sell!! “This is the tub that I own” she stated frankly. Then she literally gushed a stream of accolades that would have filled the vessel under discussion. My one and only turned to me and said “I think we should get it .
I will have to do the upselling myself I murmured to myself. I dragged her a few short paces to the corner unit and began to stutter as many brochure facts that I could recall. Each point I made was parried, skewered, shot down and trampled on. “No, I think this is the one we should get” she calmly stated again pointing to the nerf tub. Then the sale manager moved in for the kill. She lowballed the price, hit us with poker table freebie, and threw in a battery powered fish to boot.
“We must talk” I indicated to this treacherous sales person. She left us in the back corner.
Softtub!! No man my age wants to think of things soft!! I need a tub that exudes masculinity and power! I desperately need to portray a facade that boasts of success and reckless abandon. To hell with practicality!!! If I can't have my way, I will kill this deal I plotted. Yes, it was logical. We don't need a tub right away! The bank account is getting too low! I will hold out for the top-of-the-liner that we could never get later! I was adamant. This is one tete-a-tete that I would control and dominate. The fruit of my wife's logic would become toe jam beneath the crushing heels of my determination!!
The Softub should be delivered this week.