Continued from Tuesday, where we left off with Matt discovering a pair of size 43 pants…
I’m thinking, “Haha, really funny, since you’re a 34, you’re telling me they transposed the numbers. I don’t buy it!” One peek out of the shower and the look on his face told me he was telling the truth. He’d tried them on, and they were gigantic.
The room where the tuxes were stored was so-very-thankfully open, but the tux shop employees had headed home for the day (this was around 5pm). However, he was lucky enough to find a pair of size 34’s hanging in there, and swiped them with the intention of just returning both pairs when he brought his suit back the next day. When he told me this, I was so relieved, because my mind had been racing: how was I going to fix those 43’s and make them wearable, so he doesn’t look like a joke in front of the CEO?
That sense of relief didn’t last long; one look at the 34’s and I knew we were still in trouble. They were 34 long. My husband is not tall. He put the pants on and they were at least 6″ too long. He ran BACK to the tux room, and the only other pair anywhere close was a 38 regular, which he brought back, and they looked ridiculous, too. So, I set to work with what I had to make a temporary hem: one mini-sewing kit containing black thread, a needle and one safety pin, and copious amounts of lingerie tape, which I thankfully had with me for my dress (it was far more effective at holding the hem than keeping my dress in place).
It should be noted that Matt was extremely grateful and at one point said, “Let me know in the next couple of days when you’re not mad at me anymore.” I told him that I really wasn’t mad at him. I was annoyed, though, because at this point I realized that my best bet was just to start over and shower again since my hair had dried into a Medusa-like mess and I was sweating like a pig in that robe trying to fix the pants. But I wasn’t mad. (A dear friend pointed out that it’s much easier not to say “I told you so” when you were so painfully, obviously right in the first place. It doesn’t need to be spelled out.)
So, Matt headed down to our shindig around 6:20, while I still had quite a bit of getting ready to do. I made sure that he let our friends who were there know that I wasn’t late because I was being a diva! I was able to join Matt around 6:50, and it was totally fine that I was late. Well, not totally fine, as I was missing a great cocktail hour, but you get the picture.
We went on to have a fabulous evening, and no one was the wiser about the pants. He returned 3 pairs of pants to the rental place and we never heard a peep from them about it.