Monday, December 6, 2010

Thing 231 Be Overdressed for the Day

Pictured: James Bond's butler's butler, doing a crossword.

Already mentioned in the last week: How insanely ridiculously like a butler I am in a tux. Now if you thought I felt ridiculous dressed like that at a ball, imagine the shame of wearing a tux when walking into Arabica to have a cup of coffee...

That's the Thing for this day. Be ridiculously overdressed. I'm not exactly stylish. God bless my poor mother is blue in the face from trying to make me dress "properly". I'm sure I'm an embarrassment to my mates from time to time. One thing I'm never is over-dressed. From time to time we have "Suit Night" where a gang of us hit the town in our finest threads. But even then, when you're among a group (most of whom look pretty cool, curse them to hell), it doesn't count as being overdressed, because they're better than me in suits. Once again, curse them to hell.
So here's how the day went:

Off to the credit union, in my tux. The credit union though, is in the airport, so I'd to walk through that dressed as a penguin's concierge. Right through the airport, and across the departures hall, looking like someone who was running from his wedding day, or more likely, someone who was still drinking after his debs. Credit union was closed, so it was a wasted journey...

Then there was a trip into Eason's to get my newspaper, all the while looking like a fool who got lost on his way to the opera... alright, alright, I'll stop with all the terrible similes. Kind of lost the run of myself there... The woman in Eason's was weak laughing, though she tried to cover it up. The elderly lady in the queue in front of me really didn't see the funny side. She scowled at me, and grumbled under her breath, and scowled again, which got everyone in the queue behind me laughing. What's black and white and red all over? Me in a tux, mortified and blushing to the roots of my hair.

After that, there was lunch. Down to Arabica. Frank is so used to me acting the tool, that he didn't bat an eyelid at me strolling in in my formal wear. The rest of the customers though... One woman passed a comment as I walked by: "Would you not clean yourself up, you're a mess...". She said it with a smile. I laughed.

It's odd how many people contributed as I walked about. Traffic Wardens, passers by, Panda. I wander about dressed normally and I'm completely ignored. Put on a tux and suddenly everyone's a comedian. Nothing wrong with that mind, funny stuff.
I also went to O'Connell's (which I still keep calling the Old Quarter, I'll get used to change eventually) to do my crossword and have a coffee. More of the same. The staff we weak laughing at me.

Not that I blame them.

Here's typical attire for a day: Jeans, sambas, a tshirt, a jumper, a coat and a scarf. I don't do slacks. I rarely wear a shirt. I dislike wearing actual shoes. Runners are fine, shoes are almost always a no-no. On a night out: Jeans, a shirt, a coat a scarf, and probably runners again, very occasionally shoes. On the morning after: Pyjama pants (yes, I own a pair of pyjamas, don't you judge me, I'm comfortable with who I am), a hoodie, slippers, a hat and my gressy grouw (dressing gown). Never let it be said that I'm overdressed for any occasion.

Wow. In retrospect this blog makes me look like a slob. Holy crap... I should really spruce up my appearance... ahem.
Seriously though: how stupid must I have looked... honestly. This is embarrassing.


  1. Still have that pic on my phone! My very first customer in a tux!