I’ve known about an upcoming wedding for about a year. I should feel great for them but for my own selfish reasons…this is bad news! At one point in my life, I weighed around 4 bills. I got married and eventually lost weight. Proud, I picked this time to buy a new suit. This is my ONLY suit. Thanks to being locked down and lack of exercise, my pants are a little tight! What’s the old joke, these pants remind me of a cheap resort. No ballroom.
For the past year I have been watching what I eat, riding the Peloton and I quit candy. With a month to go before the wedding I tried on the pants. They were still too damn tight! What do I have to do, starve?! I just want to live! Why did I buy these fucking pants at my lowest ever weight? WHY!?
Here are my options: Buy a new suit, lose weight or get my pants let out. Buying a new suit is out of the question and would raise a lot of red flags. Cara would know I gave up. I could lose weight but that’s what I’ve been trying to do for a year! Maybe I could take my pants to the dry cleaner and have them let out. I won’t tell Cara, because, why?
I took them in and the nice lady informed me she can only let them out an inch. Doesn’t seem like enough but I need all the help I can get. Ok, I said, let’s do it! Later that day Cara brought in some shirts to get dry cleaned. I know what you’re saying, “seriously?!” Yes, seriously. Cara gave her name, the dry cleaner looked up her account and saw that something was dropped off earlier. That conversation went something like this, “Oh, I see you dropped something off earlier today. Dry cleaning a suit and letting the waist out.” WTF?! Isn’t there any dry cleaner/customer confidentially?! So Cara took that info in and held on to it.
That night we’re cooking dinner, making small talk and then she says, “So, you’re getting your pants let out?” DAMN! STONE COLD BUSTED! She got me so good! It’s almost always better not to lie to your wife. I’m currently in the market for a not-so-chatty dry cleaner.
Cara and I saw the Dave Matthews Band last night. They were, as usual, great! I do like seeing concerts again! I wasn’t sure I was going to go. I believe I ate some expired hummus! I’m not kidding! My stomach was feeling bloated and funky! But I rallied and went!
We stood up the whole time…that’s what you do at a DMB concert. Stand up, dance, do whatever you want. Or, if you’re like the girl next to me, you smoke and wave your cellphone in my face every minute! I don’t know what the hell she was recording! She was wildly moving her phone like she was shooting a Michael Bay film! And there was a super drunk guy behind us. He was loudly calling out every song…I should say wrongly calling out every song! He finally got the last song right but by then he lost all credibility.
Speaking of the last song, that’s when I had to sit down. My stomach was cramping up and all of the disgusting concert smells finally got to me. I’m feeling a little better now. I’m drinking a lot of water.
I stopped recording on my phone years ago because you never really go back and rewatch your bad cellphone footage. I just pick a time and record a few seconds. I enjoy the show more that way. Here’s 33 seconds from last night’s show:
If you’ve been following BobBorden.com since 2000, you’ve seen the name ‘Tiffany’ over and over again. When I lived in Hoboken, Tiffany was my upstairs neighbor. I was a shy guy from Ohio…I’m not exactly sure how we became friends. But we did. We hung out, had many dinners together and MANY drinks together! Ha ha. She invited me out to meet her friends and her family. Slowly my small world got bigger and bigger. After I got married and moved to Long Island we didn’t keep in touch as much…but we followed each other on social media. Three years ago she was diagnosed with cancer. She fought it but this summer it came back. Today she passed away. Thank you for everything, Tiffany. I’ll never forget you!