Every time my wife drags me shopping, I have her drop me at bass pro. I never seem to get out of there cheap. I spend hours picking up stuff then putting a few things back to ease my conscience. Then I walk over to the bass pro restaurant and hit the bar and knock back a few beers while I look over my bag of goodies. Then she shows up looking for me, and proceeds to tell me she didn't find anything she liked. I hide my receipt and tell her I picked up some swivels and a few hooks. She knows I am full of shit, as she glances at the huge bag tucked under the bar stool. But thats what happens when she makes me go shopping.~JJ~