Preparing for tournaments is a process of continual refinement.  I found that I’ll stay more hydrated by consuming two 1.5 liter bottles of water than a single gallon bottle as I won’t tote the gallon bottle around.  I found that if I count to three before delivering a ruling, I’ll probably give a better ruling.  Finally, I found that the easiest way to keep an area clean is to remove trash as it accumulates.  Once a trash depot appears on a table it will become a magnet for other garbage.

My goal for improvement this tournament was to not flash players while picking up garbage.  The judge shirt is a bit shorter than I prefer and bending over either involves me contorting like I’m wearing a miniskirt or doing an impromptu plumber impression.  So, I decided to simply wear suspenders which bring the pants up higher causing more coverage and conveniently concealing my dunlop. So, I asked who I thought was the head judge intending it to be a joke and to show my cleverness:

Me: Can I wear suspenders Saturday?
Him: I don’t know, they’re not part of the official uniform.
Me: So?  They keep my pants up, that seems like a good thing.
Him: Let me think about it.  I don’t know, I’m going to leave it up to the head judge.

2nd conversation with other guy who was the head judge

Me: Can I wear suspenders Saturday?
Him: It’s not part of the uniform, why are you wearing them?
Me: …to keep my pants up.
Him: I don’t know, let me consult some other judges.
Me: YOU HAVE GOT TO BE SHITTING ME.
Him: Hold on.
Him: Ok, I asked some higher-level judges and we’ve come to a few conclusions.  Maybe.  First, are they tasteful?
Me: They’re black.
Him: Ok, you may wear them, but there’s disagreement, so we’re not going to allow them at PTQ-level events or higher.

It appears alternate modalities of keeping ones pants now requires a pardon from the president or the pope.

So I’ve started wearing suspenders to work and they worked perfectly up till today when they got caught on something when I was trying to put them back on in the bathroom resulting in me pulling one of the straps off and hitting myself in the face with it resulting in me hitting my head against the side of the stall.  After another few moments of struggling I emerged from the stall with my shirt partially untucked and disheveled hair only to be joined at the wash basin by my former boss’s boss who’d heard the entire thing, looks at me and says “Nice suspenders”. Astardbay.