I'm going to tell you this story so I can tell you another one.
Mr. and Mrs. Snark have not always been married. In fact, they met a little bit later in life at a party thrown by Mrs. Snark's ex-husband. At this time, Mrs. Snark retained the disillusionment-with-men-and-marriage of all recent divorcees.
However, Mr. Snark was a man on the make and he managed to acquire Mrs. Snark's email address. Allegedly, Mrs. Snark gave him the wrong email address, but like all horny software engineers, Mr. Snark employed All Powerful Google to find the correct one.
Mrs. Snark agreed to a first date, which went well, and a second one soon followed. On their first date, Mr. Snark announced that he had just purchased a racing bike. Mrs. Snark, who worked as an automotive claims adjuster and had heard many motorcycle accident stories, regarded him dubiously. If this man can be domesticated, that motorcycle must go, she said to herself.
Eventually, Mr. Snark invited Mrs. Snark back to his place—boasting he would prepare a meal for her. As soon as she was left alone in the kitchen, Mrs. Snark did what any woman would do and snooped in the fridge. Mr. Snark only had apple juice boxes, bottles of beer, and a jar of olives in his refrigerator… Egads, add in the fact that the man is over forty and domesticating him appears to be an impossible task.
Mr. Snark owned an amazing cookware set, including a rack for hanging the gleaming stainless steel pots from the ceiling. Altogether, he had all the makings of a gourmet kitchen. The man must be an amazing chef, Mrs. Snark thought. Maybe there's hope for him yet.
In reality, Mr. Snark is a disaster in the kitchen. The man has zero culinary skills to speak of, so Mrs. Snark wound up preparing that meal in the interest of having edible food to consume.
Mr. Snark had been a bachelor for a long time and so he had more than just a man cave. Mr. Snark owned many expensive toys. He had an entire house to himself, filled with man stuff, including a bedroom converted to a computer cathedral and another used as a theater room. His enormous couch was stylish but lacked even a single throw pillow as a nod to creature comforts.
Mrs. Snark knew she had her work cut out for her, but the man loved Babylon 5 (and owned freakin' FANTASTIC pots), so he had potential. She took him to Bed, Bath and Beyond to purchase throw pillows.
Now, taking a bachelor shopping for throw pillows early on in the relationship is a good way of determining whether he's worth continuing to date. First, he must be willing to spend his own money on making his man cave more comfortable and attractive to the female he's courting. Second, it's a test of his character. If he kicks and screams and acts childish, then he's probably not a keeper.
Mr. Snark passed the throw pillow test with flying colors. As Mr. Snark carried piles of throw pillows into the house, an older gentleman, one of Mr. Snark's married neighbors, looked on. "I see she's taken to domesticating you," he said with an amused smile.
Mr. Snark's furry brow knit and he looked down at the pillows with an expression of belated realization. "Yeah, I guess so," he said.