I hate
clothes shopping. Seriously.
As a child, I had nephritis, a kidney ailment, that entailed me taking
steroids for an entire year. So between kindergarten and first grade
I experienced some interesting weight issues. I don't remember all
of the ends and outs of the whole deal. The only lasting memory I
have of the whole affair is spending countless hours in the dressing
rooms of the local Sears trying on husky clothes. Actually, it wasn't
even trying on the clothes. It was more spending hours on end pulling
pins out of neatly folded shirts with pieces of plastic, cardboard,
and tissue paper stuffed in the oddest places. It was spending
what seemed like hours taking my pants on and off (an image that would
have appealed to me as a junior high student).
The upshot is that to this day, I hate going to get fitted for clothes.
I would rather buy clothes and take them home, trying them on at
my leisure and taking them back if they don't fit, but I know myself
well enough to realize that I would never take them back and so that
is a fool's errand. So I spend time trying on clothes. But only
as often as I absolutely have to.
Today ended up being one of those days. I have put on a few pounds
over the past few years and my suit no longer fits. I tell you this
with no shame because I used to be 140 pounds soaking wet and six
feet three inches tall. Over the years with the help of a wife who
is an excellent cook and a slowing metabolism, I am now 6'3" and 190
lbs.
I have been asked to read at my cousin's wedding in a couple of weeks
and need to be dressed in a better suit than I currently possess so
I decided to spring for a new suit. I went to one of the smaller
men's stores in our town which carries a fine selection of tasteful
suits. I know the salesman by name (Ed) and we spoke for a few
minutes before I tried on a charcoal grey suit. It fit pretty well
and I made the obligatory trip to the dressing room to put on the
dress pants to have them marked for hemming. I returned and am
standing as he marked the pants when he said the words that reinforced
my feelings about clothes shopping:
"Wow! One of your shoulders is a lot lower than the other."
WHAT? I have lived in this body for nearly forty years and have
never had any real body issues. I have never thought I was too
tall or too skinny. I have never given a damn if I wasn't all
that handsome. Sure, I was a bit shocked to find that I was starting
to bald on top a couple of years ago, but so be it. And now this
suit salesman tells me that I have been walking around all of these
years with one shoulder not level with the other!?
Did everybody know this? Was it common knowledge and I never put it
together? Have people for years people been wandering around going
"Here comes Habakkuk with his one lower shoulder. Poor guy."?
I now am somewhat afraid to look in the mirror. Will I start looking
for other issues that I was never aware of. Are my eyes level or do
I have one that is higher than the other. Is my nose crooked? Do
I have one leg that is longer than the other? Am I just a complete
freak, but an unobservant freak?
God, I hate going shopping!