While my wife continued her exhaustive exploration of Williams-Sonoma for the perfect yellow, white, and orange-striped kitchen towels, I wandered to the entrance of the store and stood my ground. A man's way of saying, "I know it's on sale, but I'm bored. This sucks. Let's leave."

 

Ignoring the hint, Alicia disappeared into rows of kitchen utensils - some that, had they not been displayed in a store, could be classified as illegal instruments of torture under Protocol I of the Geneva Conventions. I turned on my Treo and surfed the latest news on Britney's baby dropping incident.

 

I looked up, hoping to find Alicia at the check-out. Gasp. "Oh! Oh, ha! I thought he was a statue." Shirley MacLaine grabbed her friend's hand and gawked. Laughter. "I thought you were a statue, and then you moved!" Turning to her friend, "I thought he was a statue."

 

"No, I'm alive,"  despite what the tabloids say. Laughter.