For this week's Feel Good Friday, a story that had me in stitches and also demonstrated a Mom's choice to look on the bright side of things. Also, I see from the poll at the left of this page that readers most enjoy the crazy stories I tell, so here goes.
A gentleman came into my store to return his tuxedo from his brother's wedding the Saturday previous. (Pause to remind you of the chaos we have in the tux department, don't forget the disgusting story "Don't Read This if You Just Ate Lunch!") If I was guessing his age, I would peg him at somewhere in his mid to late 20's. I was chatting with him about the wedding as I unzipped the tux bag and began sorting all the pieces, shirt, shoes, pants, etc. I noticed that his tie was missing and asked him about it. He looked at me blankly and said, "It isn't in there?" I told him no, it was not, and did he know where he might have left it? I tell him that if the tie is not returned, he will forfeit his security deposit. This is a conversation I have several times every week with guys ranging in age from prom kids to Grandfathers of the Bride, but apparently this was too much information to process. He looked at me with the most vapid of expressions and said, "Let me get my Mom."
His Mom. Okay.
He exited the store, went back to his car and got in, whereupon a woman who looked to be in her 60's that I could only assume was his Mother got out of the driver's side where she had been waiting and entered. I explained to her that the tie was missing and that the security deposit would be forfeited if it could not be found. She told me that it might have gotten tucked in to another tux bag from a different member of the bridal party and that she would check with them. "No problem," I say, for this is a common occurrence. As we have this conversation, I am continuing to sort through the tux, which includes reaching into all the pockets to make sure that all contents thereof are returned to the renter. Usually the contents are either money, wedding favors, seating cards or mints, but the policy is that whatever we find in the pockets is the property of the person returning the tux.
I feel something in the inside pocket of the tux and immediately know from a sense of touch that I am in a pickle.
I do not want to hand this to this woman.
But, it is store policy, and this is the property of her son so I pull it out and hand it to her. A condom.
I immediately bury my head in the paperwork I am doing in the returning process, but not before I see her considering what I have handed her. Perhaps it is because of her age, but she does not seem to realize immediately what it is, and holds it at arm's length and squints to read the words on it, which even I can read now from where I am standing: "Extra Large".
I was probably 10 shades of red when she registered what it was she was holding and muttered a quiet, "Oh!" She must have felt the need to fill the awkward silence that had developed between her and I and the other guys standing around watching this unfold. She said, in the tone of someone checking a task off a to do list, "Good. At least I won't have to worry about being a Grandmother before I'm ready!"
We finished up and I watched her return to her son, waiting unknowingly, for his mother to return to him, his extra large condom clutched in her hand.
Oh, how I wish I was a fly on the dashboard of that car that day!