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My wife Gloria and I were in Toronto for the weekend. Although work schedules prohibited us from taking a formal honeymoon, we promised ourselves a series of vacation weekends throughout the year. We chose Toronto as our first trip for sightseeing and shopping. Little did I know we would combine the two pastimes.

We had tickets to see a new show Friday night. While walking from dinner to the theatre, a small boutique on a side street caught Gloria's eye. After checking our map and my watch, I followed her inside to ensure that this would be a short stop.

It wasn't exactly my type of store; it was more suited to the crunchy-granola college student. Lots of incense, beaded jewelry, and posters best suited for dorm rooms. But what had drawn Gloria inside were several colorful sarongs hanging in the window. By the time I had entered the store, she had already brought one to a young Hispanic man behind the counter and asked him where the changing rooms were. Well, I thought, at least she knows how to make up her mind quickly.

Luck was not on my side, or so I thought at first. The sarong was too big for my petite wife - she flung it over the top of the changing room door and asked me to find a smaller one. Being the dutiful husband, I went in search of another skirt. After searching the racks in vain, I went up to find the cashier. No sign of him. I knew that the store was going to close in a few minutes and I hadn't seen any other ...

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