The joy of shopping is lost on old shirts guys.

Through no fault of my own, I possess two new dress shirts. And a nice pair of slacks.

Like most self-improvement plans, responsibility fell to lovely new bride.

It started pleasantly enough. One of the gift cards we received for our wedding six months ago was to a major department store.

“You know what we could put this toward, don’t you,” my wife said.

“I sure do,” I said.

“I’m glad we agree,” she said. “What colors were you thinking?”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” I said. “Black would be fine. It would match anything.”

“Odd choice, but I suppose that will do for the first one,” she said. “Long-sleeved or short?”

“Wait,” I said, sensing a failure to communicate. “First one? Long or short? We are talking about a 7.1 Surround Sound home theater system, right? With a 54-inch flat screen?”

“You and your wisecracks,” she said with an indulgent chuckle. “No, silly! Your new shirts, of course. A home theater system! What a jokester.”

I wasn’t joking. Nor am I enjoying Dolby Surround Sound. But now I do have two new shirts and a nice pair of dress slacks.

Yipee.

With Terry leading the charge and me shuffling a close 50 to 70 feet behind, we sallied into the department store.

First we carefully examined the racks for tall and large guys (according to height-weight charts, I am 9-foot-11), moved toward the normal guy racks, considered all the specials racks, some of them twice, and rummaged through end caps and other displays.

“You need new shirts,” she said.

“I like the ones I have. That’s why I wear them. It’s why I’ve been wearing them for 15 years. They’re comfortable. Soft. Broken in.”

“More like broken down,” she said. “Barely there. And pretty much all plain blue. We’re married now. If you don’t start dressing better, people will think it’s my fault.”

So I have two new (not plain blue) shirts. And a nice pair of dress slacks.

Never have I expended so much study on the selection of any item of clothing not bearing a sports logo. It was exhausting.

“How about this ruby shirt,” she said. “You look good in jewel tones.”

“That’s nice,” I said.

“You’d look great in this deep purple,” she said.

“That’s nice,” I said.

“Oh, look at this emerald shirt!” she said.

“That’s nice,” I said. But I may have winced.

Terry sneezed and pulled a tissue from her pocket.

“That’s nice,” I said.

She glared at me. “You’re not having fun, are you?”

“It’s supposed to be fun?” I said. “Like a poke in the eye?”

She didn’t poke me. Instead, she snatched two new shirts and a nice pair of dress slacks, slapped them in the cart and marched me out of the store. Finally.

Someday I probably will take the new shirts out of their plastic. Someday, I probably will pull the new pants from their display hanger. Some day.

I figure the longer I can keep the shirts new, the longer it will be before another trip is necessary.

Until then, I have two new shirts and a nice pair of dress pants.