Wednesday, November 20, 2002

I’d been having trouble with

I’d been having trouble with my bowtie, which is no surprise because they are inventions of a malicious demon.  My elbows ached and my hands throbbed from holding an unnatural position as I repeatedly folded, flipped, tucked, straightened, tightened, yanked and restarted.  My fourth try was less pathetic than prior efforts and I stepped out for a critique from my host and his friend, both men of sophistication and style. 

I trusted their fashion sense.  They worked in high level positions in the entertainment industry in Manhattan and paid attention to matters of couture (if I even spelled it right).  They were very supportive of my enformalization and tuxulositude, but as for the bowtie, they frankly advised me to submit to their ministrations.  They would retie me, make me - well, not beautiful, but less a prospective object of derision.  (In my 24 hours in the city to that point I’d already seen more tuxedos than I see in San Francisco in a year, and even more bowties than that.  My errors would not have gone unnoticed.) They looked over my tie and informed me, gently, that it was rather floppy and wide - my host kindly offered to lend me his, more slim and au courant.  I gratefully accepted this from his magnanimous hand. 

Now, bowties are adjustable to neck size, and I was therefore duly asked for mine.  “Sixteen and a half.” The two of them shot a glance at each other - one began to let a smile play over his lips; the other quietly made a small satisfied sound.  They looked back to me.  I was embarassed.  “That’s okay, right?” “Oh yes, great, don’t worry about it.” “I guess I was blessed with girth,” I said apologetically. 

The tie looked great once they were finished with it.  It was tied really really tight, and perfectly balanced.  That meant I could be invisible, could not stand out among all the other penguins and butlers roaming the streets that night.  Thanks, guys.  I couldn’t have done it without you.  And on further reflection, there’s absolutely nothing remarkable about 16-1/2.