Here’s a new definition of boring: working at a dry cleaners at 3:30 on a Saturday afternoon. In a town like ours, where the cleaners on virtually every corner close at noon or 1:00 on Saturdays, and nothing is actually being cleaned, it can be a pretty sleepy time.
Until I show up.
The wedding was scheduled for 5:00, and everything was ready. The church was decorated, the ceremony was prepared and printed, and the wedding party was starting to party (translation: flashbulbs were popping). All I needed to do was go home, freshen up a bit, and change into my suit.
In what part of me remains traditional, I keep a black suit. It goes with anything, is appropriate for funerals or weddings or any other semi-formal something. Problem is, I only wear the thing when there is a semi-formal something.
(You probably know where this is going.) [click to continue…]
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