A true story:
Like so many bridal salons, my store also provides attire for other members of the party: bridesmaids, flowergirls, Mothers and the gentlemen in the party.
In was in this last capacity that I happened to be working on a particular Monday morning in question in the tux department. I was cheerfully processing the returned tuxes of a bridal party, counting shoes, ties, etc. and chatting away with the groomsman who sat looking decidedly partied-out. I love to hear the details of the weddings, how was it? Did the bride buy her dress here? How did she look? How was the weather? That sort of thing. As I have mentioned before in earlier posts, I love my job and love weddings, so I always love to hear all the nitty-gritty of what went right and what went wrong (some great stories!) after the event.
As we are chatting, I unzip the rental bag that contains one of the tuxedos being returned. I notice that the vest, tie and shirt are covered in brown all down the front. This is not a concern, for that is what laundry is for, but I still jokingly say to the groomsman, "Somebody had a good time at the chocolate fountain!" and proceed to unbutton and sort the pieces into the laundry piles. Just as he looks at me quizzically and says, "there wasn't a chocolate fountain at the wedding...", the smell hits me full in the face. And it had had a day and a half to ripen in the tux bag in the back of this groomsman's car. In the heat.
Did I mention I love my job? Sometimes I wonder if I should get hazard pay.