On Friday, Anne and I headed over to Men’s Warehouse to pick up my new suit. It had been the prescribed two-weeks and we arrived there with every expectation that I could try on my suit, it would fit well and that would be that. Oh, how little we knew. When we arrived, I handed the first available clerk my claim check and he went around back to find my garments. He returned quickly, but not with my navy-blue suit, but instead he had a black pair of dress slacks sans jacket and shirt. The ticket on the slacks had my name on it, just like the one I had handed him, but that’s as far as they agreed. The clerk disappeared again, this time for a long, long while. Anne later suggested that if we had begun practicing our wedding dancing then and there, that might have sped things along. Eventually, I became aware of the involvement of a man in authority. Although, he certainly didn’t project that authority with his attire. He was wearing gym shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt, but he was the store’s manager. He apologized for his attire, it being his day off and he had just breezed in for a moment to see how things were going, when I arrived. I quipped, “Casual Friday?”, which got a laugh out of him. He then disappeared around back for another long delay. When he returned, it was with a tale of woe. They could not find hide-nor-hair of the suit. He suggested that after I had been fitted for and then paid for the suit, it had been returned to the rack and most likely sold again. He also explained that the claim check that I had, was the wrong half of a pair. The one I had, had all of the fitting info and the one that I should have had didn’t. He didn’t think that any of the alterations could have been done. He was all apologetic and promised expedited service. All he needed to do was check his inventory, to see if he had another suit in stock. At about this time the woman tailor, with the Eastern European accent who had originally fitted me got involve. Clerk, manager and tailor again disappeared around back. After another long wait, the manager returned triumphant with all my garments. I tried everything on and Anne snapped this photo, crisis averted.