By Kelly Kazek
Leave it to the Brits to come up with something even more useless than the royal family or those soldiers with the big, furry hats.
This month in a London shopping center, they have introduced the Manpod, a tiny cubicle filled with entertainment and electronic devices where a man can sit in the middle of the mall while his wife is shopping.
Here’s an excerpt from an Evening Standard story: It’s “ … a man-crèche where you can unburden yourself from your other half, leaving you in charge of the credit card and able to conquer your shopping in peace and quiet. Secure in his Manpod, he … will be fed, watered and provided with the best in high definition home entertainment in the way of the latest Blu-ray blockbuster demonstrations, including Terminator Salvation and Angels & Demons. Genius.”
Say what?
Look, this might have had some value back in the Dark ages when men held tight to the household purse strings. Then a Manpod could be used to hold men captive and preoccupied so the women could go into their wallets without resistance.
But these days, a Manpod is about as useless as, well, a man in a shopping mall.
Women don’t need men to leave us “in charge of the credit card.”
We don’t need men to drive us there.
We certainly don’t need their fashion advice.
So unless they are shopping with us for the enjoyment of our company, the thrill of the hunt or the scent of fresh cashmere, in which case they would not need the isolation of a Manpod, why are they there?
Sure, they may be talented at holding purses while we’re in dressing rooms but if we buy that Buxton over-the-shoulder organizer As Seen on TV, we should be able to make it on our own.
Two reasons the Manpod is the stupidest invention in history: 1. Men don’t want to go shopping at malls. 2. Women don’t want them there.
So if women want to shop in peace and quiet and men want to sit virtually motionless in a room watching football or playing video games, men may as well keep their hindends on the living room sofa so at least we can yell at them for not mowing the grass when we get home from shopping.
I’ll tell you a useful invention — a Womanpod.
This would be a cubicle, soothingly decorated and featuring plush carpeting of course, where mamas could talk on their phones without being detected by their children’s mama’s-on-the-phone radar, when they will proceed to cling to mama’s leg, hit each other on the head with the guitar from Guitar Hero, claim they are dying from a paper cut and proclaim a hundred other “emergencies.”
A Womanpod would include a large tub, perfect for bubble baths, where she could not hear the pitiful moans of her husband who is slowly starving to death without his supper, or see the tiny, desperate fingers of their children reaching under the bathroom door.
In a Womanpod, we could order all Christmas gifts at one time for bargain prices, and have them shipped, neatly wrapped, to each recipient.
Mamas in a Womanpod would be protected from the ringing doorbells of people wanting to repair her brand new roof, students selling magazines, or church members wanting to convert her.
Inside, even the dog doesn’t chew shoes and the cat doesn’t vomit on new silk blouses.
Ahhhh.
I’m getting relaxed just thinking about it.
Someone could make millions with an invention like this …
Wait a minute. I thought of it first.
Where’s the number for the patent office … ?
