Adventures with Emily

closePlease note: This post was published over a year ago, so please be aware that its content may not be quite so accurate anymore. Also, the format of the site has changed since it was published, so please excuse any formatting issues.

Today, Emily, Morah and I ran some (mostly) wedding-related errands.

It was all pretty ho-hum and normal, but as we’ve learned, no day with Emily is ever that ho-hum.

After we picked up my wedding ring and a few other things for which we hadn’t gone to the mall (why is it so hard to walk out of a bookstore without any books?), we decided we had better get moving to our next stop. We walked out to the car, and Emily dug around in her purse, looking for her keys. She couldn’t find them. She looks in the window and checks the ignition. Yep, there they are. And all the doors are locked.

Okay, no problem, we’ll just get mall security to come Slim Jim us. No dice. The (hot) girl working there told us that they don’t have a Slim Jim (which we suspect is bollocks), but she could give us the number for a locksmith. Fine, whatever.

But we all know that a locksmith is going to take his time showing up, Slim Jim us in record time, then charge fifty bucks for it. Instead, we headed over to Sears in the hopes that they sold Slim Jims. Nope.

Okay, one last idea. Emily called a co-worker who lived nearby and asked if she could bring a wire hanger or something, which she agreed to do.

A short while later, Emily’s friend showed up with a long metal rod. Emily made a little hook on the end, shoved down the door, and began to fiddle around.

“Have you done this before, Emily?”

“I’ve seen them do it on T.V.”


It took a little while, but eventually, she got one of the door unlocked. Hooray, time to rejoice and drive away, right? Well, first we have to get the metal rod =back out= of the door. Bum.

More fiddling, more rod-bending, and more people taking a stab at it, but in the end, I got the rod out.

We didn’t make it to our next stop until much later that day, but it was a very important stop: Men’s Warehouse.

I’m getting married four weeks from Saturday, and I still don’t have a tuxedo! After going to Men’s Warehouse, I still don’t have a tuxedo; I have a suit.

An expensive suit, but a damn nice one. So why did I buy a suit instead of renting a tux? Well, a few reasons, but it basically boiled down to two things:

1) Once I found out the difference between a tux and a suit (the only difference is that a tux has satin on the lapel and a satin stripe down the side of the trousers), I realised that I don’t like tuxedos.

2) ROI (return on investment). Because I would be in Hawaii for two weeks, I would have had to rent the tux for two weeks. Then, when we get back, we’re going to have another reception in Spokane, which would necessitate yet another rental. So pretty much, I would be paying the same amount of money, but would have nothing to show for it. This way, I pay more or less the same amount of money, but I have a really nice suit, tailored just for me, that I can keep forever.

I think I made the right choice. Especially considering what a nice suit it is and that the price was basically the same.

As an added bonus, Morah thinks I look really sexy in it. And really, isn’t that what matters most?

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