In a bit under a month, we--my parents and I--have to go to a wedding. Actually, my father is the best man, but thankfully we like the folks getting married, so it's not too bad. At the same time, I'm generally of the opinion that weddings suck, and are to be avoided at all costs.
The side effect of this world view is that, I don't really own clothes that are fancy enough to wear in these situations. This is mitigated somewhat by the fact that I'm a fairly conservative dresser and my normal wardrobe is pretty versatile, so usually I can skate by as long as I don't need to wear a tie . But this wedding thwarted me.
It also--and more importantly--thwarted my mother, who again doesn't (or didn't) really have anything dressy/formal enough, for similar sorts of reasons.
So we went shopping.
In a mall.
(Everyone gasp at once here)
Dear lord. That was tiring, and depressing, and stressful. And, being sort of thrifty to begin with , appalling the price of clothing.
And to think, some people go to malls for fun. As recreation.
In other news, I have a brief story to recount. We were driving (on the way to the mall) and my mother, on the prowl for a diet coke, made an abrupt right turn from the left lane. into a gas station parking lot.
"Jesus," I screamed reaching for the door jam in hopes that, that might protect me somewhat for the painful death that--at the moment--I felt was imminent.
Incidentally, I also wondered why on earth that particularly deity seemed like the appropriate one to invoke in this situation.
And then I made another realization.
This was, by far, not the first time as a passenger in a car where I felt that my life was endangered by a driver in pursuit of a diet soft drink.
And suddenly I was a little nostalgic.
At least once I started breathing again.
|||Not that I'm wearing a tie this time, but my old sports coat that I got from a thrift shop for my high school prom for 2 dollars, is--though nice--perhaps no longer in suitable shape for this occasion.|
|||I for instance, get most of my jeans on ebay, where, armed with my size can usually spend 30 dollars every couple of years and always have enough pants. It's a source of pride on my part.|