My Husband, the Shopper
My husband is a shopper. Not my kind of shopping...the leisurely stroll through stores just to see what's new and what you might need that you didn't know you needed. No, my husband is a comparison shopper. Not that it's a bad thing.
It starts with Consumer Reports magazine. Years and years of Consumer Reports magazine. Really. I try to recycle them and he digs them out. And, yes, we both know that they put out a little booklet of the highlights every year, but, according to my husband, the reports are not as complete as the magazine articles. Anyway, lots of research goes into the buying of anything (Did you know that Consumer Reports rates wine. Yup, they do. Happily, my favorite Merlot is a Consumer Reports best buy).
The next step involves checking out the necessary item in the stores---every store that sells said item. We check the price, the warranty, the delivery, how it looks, if the salesmen know more about the item than my husband (few do). For a few years I went along with him as he checked things out. I soon learned I am not made for that serious kind of shopping. Cars are the worst--oh, and TVs---oops forgot about washers and dryers, and stoves, and the counter tops (still have my old crappy one because he has a certain design in his head and can't find it). Let's face it. It's all bad to shop for.
Eventually, I learned to send him on his own to do the initial comparisons.
I learned this after shopping for cars at every car lot in a 10 country radius--and another state. I won't bore you with the details, but let's just say I really only care about the color and the stereo.
Now I tell him, "When you have it narrowed down to three, let me know. I'll come along."
We are both much happier with this arrangement.