But baaaabe! We’ve been up here all day,
cries Boyfriend with dismay.
But his protest doesn’t faze her,
for she needs a new blazer.

Just a few more stores,
Girlfriend implores.
You’ll like TJ Maxx,
they have men’s slacks.

But Boyfriend’s picking fights
up here in Friendship Heights,
and he’s prone to speeches
when he beseeches:

Babe! You blew your salary
in the Mazza Gallerie.
I had an asthma attack
in the Nordstrom Rack
and needed my inhaler
to survive Ann Taylor.
I got an anal fissure
sitting in Eileen Fischer
and came down with ague
waiting for you in J. Crew.
I know I have lymphoma
from Williams Sonoma,
and that Julia Farr
was a bridge too far.
Can we please call it a day
before I turn gay?

But this still doesn’t faze her,
for she needs that blazer.
So to TJ Maxx they go,
Girlfriend and her beau.

He scoffs at its placement
down in a basement
but she ignores his objection
and heads to the women’s section.

Boyfriend is wary
and feels like a fairy.
But alone with himself
he heads to the shelves.

Where he’s shocked
by how well stocked
he finds every aisle
with affordable men’s style.

It’s quite a surprise,
this bounty of supplies;
they do have men’s slacks,
and dress socks in packs.

With prices cheap as dirt,
he picks out a shirt
and some new cufflinks;
a bargain, he thinks.

He’s a handsome guy
when he adds a tie,
and he looks svelte
in a brand new belt.

Girlfriend reappears
by the cashiers
with a bag in her hands
full of designer brands.

Boyfriend regrets their fight,
for he’s seen the light.
He was wrong before;
he loves this store.

He admits as much
and moves to touch
Girlfriend on her hips,
his lips on her lips.

He has to praise her
for her new blazer,
and he’s happy to kiss her,
for Boyfriend’s now a Maxximister.