Instant Godfather

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In the days when I worked in an office, I wore suits. I tried to keep a couple in a wearable condition, but there were periods when I had to function with just one serviceable suit.

During one of those periods, the trousers of my one remaining suit split and I was left with none. As if that weren’t bad enough, I was due to travel the next day with my boss to a meeting in the UK. I had exactly two hours to find a suit for the trip.

Could I find a suit to fit me? I trawled all the gents’ outfitters in the city and found nothing. Finally, minutes before the shops closed for the day, I entered the last shop on my list determined not to leave empty-handed.

What I came away with was nothing like the style or colour that I would have chosen. Nor was it a good fit; the drainpipe trousers were about an inch too short, the waisted jacket a tight fit. But I was out of options.

When I brought it home I was faced with another problem. I had several shirts of different colours, but none that would go with this suit. The shirt that I selected really was my only option, as was my choice of tie.

When I met my boss at the airport his jaw fell and his eyes bulged. I swear he lost the power of speech for a good thirty minutes.

The suit was purple, the shirt chocolate brown, the tie a broad check in yellow, brown and white squares. The effect was straight out of Reservoir Dogs.

The meeting was a great success. We made them an offer they couldn’t refuse.

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