We went to get The Pony's tuxedo for prom today.
As you might guess, The Pony doesn't really care what kind of tuxedo he gets. Doesn't even care if he has shoes to wear, since he will be walking on air beside his paramour, and maybe even holding her hand! I don't know that. I suspect he would dearly love to. But I'm not sure he would make such an advance, because if there's any human on the face of the earth whose feelings matter to The Pony, it's the feelings of his little gal.
I had been looking for tux rentals on the innernets. The only one I could remember was over in bill-paying town, from when both boys were in their brother's wedding. I saw one very close to Newmentia, with the unfortunate distinction of having "flower girl" in the name of the establishment. You know what that means. The Pony had no desire to go there and ask about tuxes, even though it showed the line they carry on their website. "Mom. I've never heard of anybody getting a tux there. I thought they only did flowers."
So today on our way to the third of our seven listed stops, but the fifth of our actual nine stops, we passed the flower girl. "Oh Mom. Did you see that? They had a sign in their window that said "Tux Rentals."
"No. I did not see that. We're already past it. Going to where you want to rent your tux." In all actuality, I had consulted my BFF Google, and then asked the #1 son about where he had gotten his two prom tuxes, and made my decision. It's right next door to my eye doctor that gave me the worst glasses I ever paid for. Which is not, I hope, an omen.
The place looked deserted. "I think it's upstairs for the tux rental. You drive around to the side." That Pony sure knows a lot for being ignorant of the ways of prom. That side of the establishment was also deserted. The Pony jumped out and galloped to the door to read the sign. "It says they opened at 10:00." Since it was already after 11:30, we went in. #1 said the people there were super nice. He was right.
The counter girl showed us a slanted countertop area much like the ones where you sit down to look at dress patterns in The Devil's Playground. Not that I sew a lot of dresses. Or even know if they still have that counter. But as a child, I spent many a minute sitting on those stools browsing through McCalls pattern books while waiting on Mom to make a decision.
"Oh, we already know what we want. I named off the collection, the tux style, the vest/tie color, and The Pony looked where she gestured at shirts, and picked the plain one (that costs $15.00 more) and the shiny shoes. All that was left was the measurin', the payin', and the cryin'.
And as an added bonus, they had a bathroom in the vestibule between the outer and inner doors.
I highly recommend this place. Unlike the optometrist next door.
I hope when he's gussied all up in his finery, you'll take his picture (perhaps he can hold a platter in front of his face?), so we know what a flashy show Pony he is...
ReplyDeleteSioux,
ReplyDeleteMaybe he can find that wooden mask that Farmer H brought home from the auction several years ago. The one that scared me out of my skin when both #1 and The Pony took a turn wearing it down the steps to my dark basement lair. The one that The Pony swore moved by itself on the kitchen table.