I went to Men’s Warehouse to get a shirt and go to talk to Lee:
Me: I’m looking for a few nice size 20 long-sleeved shirts.
Tailor: Why are you going that large?
Me: I’ve found that gives me the space I need in the paunch *points to gut*.
Tailor: You should be fine in a 18 or 19 *pulls out tape, measures neck* Yep, you’re a 18 and a half.Â Try these.
Me: I don’t know.
Tailor: Who’s the tailor?
Me: *puts on shirt* Huh, it does fit.Â But my other size 18.5s don’t.
Tailor: That’s because you’re buying crappy shirts.Â What was rag, George Foreman Casual… Van Hausen?
Me: I don’t know [it was a van Hausen].
Tailor: Those are trash shirts, they make money by shorting you on fabric.Â Stick with me and you’ll be never not fabulous.
Me: Thank you, Lee.
If only one day he’d look at me and say “Stick with me, kid, and I’ll make you a star”.