Jerry Crotti called and said to come to the gala ball. "You are one of everyone! You must."
I hung up and went to my clothes closet. Nothing. I went out to West Sixth Avenue and went into the first men's store. I was greeted, but coldly.
"Yes?"
"What have you got for a ball?"
"We sell no balls here."
"Oh, OK. I mean. What have you got here that would be suitable for someone like me to go to a ball, a formal dance, in the evening?"
"We have nothing suitable for someone like you. No, just kidding. Come on. Let's take a look over here."
He led me, off balance but relieved, to the far corner of the shop where there were tuxedos lined up, all alike but different sizes. I could see by the sleeve lengths first then the length of the jackets.
"Perhaps here is where you belong."
"I doubt it, I said not loud enough for him to hear."
"Eh?"
"Well, er, yes. Forty long and about 34 in the waist."
"We can come close to that. Would you like a conservative cut or something more dramatic, like tails."
"Having a tail, or more than one would be dramatic, wouldn't it?" I saw the look on his face and took it back. "Sorry."
"Yes, here are two possibilities. This is three hundred and fifty dollars plus tax. This is nine hundred."
"Do you have anything more modest? in price, that is?"
"This is the least expensive tux we have."
"That it may be, but I'm not sure I can afford that just for one evening. I don't go to these things often."
"Yes. Would you like to try it on?"
"Is it my size?"
"We will make it fit with some slight alterations. It is included in the price."
I went to the changing room and tried it on. I came out looking and feeling sheepish. The pants were too big around the waist and the legs were about a foot too long--each leg. The coat seemed about right, but the tails seemed a bit long.
"Are these supposed to be shorter?"
"No, that is about right. We can take the pants in and hem the legs. Let me just--"
At that he put his hand up to my crotch and I jumped. Actually my right nut took a jump and I jumped in reaction. "Hey, just a--"
He looked surprised and I composed myself. Perhaps he didn't mean it, but I was definitely put off. I didn't even think.
"This is not going to work."
"I'm sorry?"
"I changed my mind. I don't want to do this. Buy a tuxedo."
"Yes, sir. Is there something--"
"No, I have changed my mind. I didn't want to go to the gala anyway. In the first place."
"But there will be people there. Our customers love to see and be seen."
"I don't."
"Yes, well--"
"Yes. I am going to take these off." I went into the changing room and as I was removing the pants I heard at the door, "Sir? May I interest you in a tux without tails?"
"No. No. Thanks but no."
"Perhaps a sport coat and slacks?"
"No, really. I am not the type."
Silence. I guess I had thoroughly rebuffed him. Perhaps he walked away and was out of hearing range.
"Fuck. Shit. It always comes to this. I hate these social things. Why did I listen to Jerry? Waste of time." And I went on like this to myself for a few moments when I heard a tap, tap on the changing room door.
"Are you all right in there?"
"Yes, fine. Be right out."
I exited slowly thinking I might hit him in the nose if he was right there outside the door. He was standing at attention a few feet away, hand outstretched to receive the store's garments. I handed him the rejected black bundle.
"Thanks, I need to be going."
"If you change your mind, I will be here. My name is Chris, and I would be happy to assist you should you--"
"Thanks."
I walked out of the store and began thinking. Was it because I did not care for social affairs or something that the sales clerk said or did that? led me to invitation's end? I went over it all in my mind, convinced that what put me off was agreeing with Jerry's upbeat invitation and soft sell, which appealed to my ego, I have to admit. But I was wrong.
The sales clerk became my focus, and I thought that there must have been something. And then I had it. He was a chameleon. First, he stood off, formal like. then he tried to kid with me, and when he found I wasn't playing, he almost insulted me with his allusion to pop psychology. "Perhaps here is where you belong." Then he changed again, trying to probe my tastes. Finally, there was this choice of two. One way too expensive; the other at the lower end but still too pricey for me. Choosing that and having to appear in an ill-fitting pair of pants in front of him. Oh, and that upward jab into my crotch.
No. It was all too . . . too much to take. And it didn't matter that I didn't want to go anyway. Put me off. Put me off.
I can blame Jerry for starting all this. No, I just won't go. Won't say a thing. Avoid the whole thing altogether.
---
Funny sort. He looked like someone I could sell. But he danced around too much. I guess he really didn't want to buy. Kidding works with most people, but even when he kidded back, there was something reserved in his manner. I may have gone too far with what I said, but I don't think so. Maybe pleading with him in the end was going too far. But I had to try to salvage the thing. He jumped a bit when I tried to measure the inseam. I didn't touch him, but maybe he is hung low. I don't know. With some customers you can never tell. He was kind of dressed like a clown, but I didn't . . . I ignored that. I don't know what it is. But another customer will come soon.
