We went back to the scene of the fashion crime. Well, there are no longer any fashion faux pas going on there.
We came, we saw, we put it on. Jamie took one dressing room and I took the other. Our suits were hanging in each, waiting for us. It's like wearing something created only for you...oh, wait. It was. They are.
Everyone in the shop who recognized me from last time said hello, nodded, and whispered, "You look sooo good."
Joe, our friendly Wilkes Bashford sales associate, took two Polaroids of us together. One he gave to me; the other he kept for himself. Jamie was still strutting around when I announced I was going back to the grubby street clothes. Reluctantly, he followed suit.
It was a split-second later when I entered the dressing room again that I found that my fly was open. Well, gosh. Hopefully I won't repeat that mistake in another week in front of three rabbis!
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