No doubt many of you by now have heard the story of my missing suit pants. For those of you whom have not, I offer this bit of humorous pre-wedding event chicanery for your reading pleasure.
A few days before Kate left for Northumberland to prepare for the wedding I tried on my suit to make sure everything still fit well. I put everything back in the garment bag and Kate took it with her to Northumberland. The night before the wedding at the rehearsal dinner at the Laepple household I received said garment bag and took it to my hotel room where it remained until the next day when it was put into my car and taken to the bridal suite where I’d be dressing for the wedding.
Under normal conditions, I’d wait until about a half hour before going somewhere to get ready. I’m usually able to shower, shave, dress and primp in under 30 minutes. But on this particular day I thought it would be nice to get dressed up and sit around the really nice B&B with my best man, Shawn, before going to the Savoy.
Its a good thing I started getting ready 90 minutes before the event, rather than 30.
Upon opening the suit before jumping in the shower I was very surprised to find out that I had no pants in the garment bag. I was just absolutely stunned and refused to believe what my eyes were telling me. I called Wayne and told him, “We have a slight emergency, depending upon how you look at it,” and told him of my plight. He was actually rather calm (unlike myself) and went to go look in the closet where they had been hanging. No dice. Elspeth, one of Kate’s aids-de-camp, also searched and found nothing anywhere near the suit had been hanging.
We next tried to contact Shawn’s wife, who was still at the hotel room that was adjacent to the room I stayed in the previous night. She was showering and didn’t immediately pick up. More panic. I next called my father and nearly caused him to have a heart attack. He made his way to Jennifer’s hotel room to get her to help him check the room I had been staying in. No luck there either. They next went to the hotel management and questioned the cleaning ladies as to whether or not they saw anything. Still nothing.
Shawn called Kate and probably caused her to panic a bit (ok, a lot) when he refused to speak to her and made her put Anny on the phone to explain what was happening.
By now we came to the conclusion that we needed a plan B in the pants department. All I brought up with me were worn out brown cords and a pair of jeans with the cuffs cut off and frayed. There was no way I was going to wear them. There was just no way I was going to pull it off as some sort of fashion statement, like Chuck Taylor Converse All Stars at a prom. That just wasn’t going to happen.
By now we’re looking at about 75 minutes to 0 hour.
We went to Boscovs. I rather obnoxiously, in my best impression of a city slicker, walked past three people in line, right up to the counter in the mens’ department, and boldly proclaimed a wardrobe emergency to the two ladies at the register. The people waiting in line stepped aside and without a word one of the ladies took my suit coat and began the search for a pair of pants that would match. I was somewhat relieved by now that there was a solution. After going from rack to rack, trying to match the fabrics, the lady told me, “I don’t have anything that matches.” My response was something along the lines of, “oh, yes, you do!”
I was looking for just about anything “dark” that was even the slightest bit of a close match. I was willing to wear Dockers. Anything. We finally found something that wasn’t too much of a mismatch and headed to the counter — with about 60 minutes to go. She rung them up and told me, “nine ninety seven”. I said, “what?!” She replied again, “nine ninety seven.” I thought, my God, this woman is out of her mind! She wants me to pay $997 for a pair of pants?!?! Finally, again, I repeated very slowly and clearly, “nine ninety seven” as if this were the first time I had ever heard or spoke numbers in the English language. I resigned myself to the fact that I was going to have to pay nearly $1,000 for a pair of pants, but what else was I to do? Needless to say, she was trying to communicate to me: $9.97. [Note: They were labelled $50 so she deserves a double scoop of positive kharma.]
I paid, ran back to the suite, finished readying and made it to the Savoy at the exact moment I was supposed to be there. I figured this had all remained a secret but when I walked into the front door every person in the foyer walked up and said their hello, made eye contact, and immediately looked at the lower portion of my body. It was immediately apparent the secret was definitely out.
Although a bit late in the game, the pants were found at the Laepple’s the next day so at least the suit isn’t worthless now. Despite the last minute drama, the rest of the evening went off without a hitch and I dare say was perfect.
I started messing around with the video my sister recorded of the ceremony and hope to have it posted to YouTube within the next week. I’ll keep ya’ll posted as to when it will be available for your viewing pleasure. Either tonight or tomorrow I’ll start writing reviews for the restaurants and meals and will give some details on some of the places we visited and interesting people we met.