ultimate tailor

Right. It's a weekend and a post's a'coming around the end of this line.......

My team had an Ultimate game at the reflecting pool Friday night. There are three fields on the south side of the pool between the WWII and Lincoln Memorial. The walk in the early evening from the Smithsonian Metro stop along the monuments is quite nice. Playing with the pool and Washington Monument in clear view is excellent. I think at one point I told one of my teammates to run a post pattern toward the Washington Momument; disc to be delivered forewith. I don't remember what came of that gameplan.

On Saturday the Eleven headed out for errands and ended up at a tailor just up the road in Arlington. X had a half-dozen lower half kits that required alterations and Kt had tip-typed a message to her mothers group in the area - this shop was the recommendation: Reed's Custom Tailors. We waited a moment or two for a customer to clear the stage for an epic performance that needed only opera music to bring in the crowd. It starts with X pulling skirts and trousers from the plastic bag and beginning a far too long explanation that she needs them taken in, lengthened, or both. About four garments in the tailor begins to rub his temples and just loudly enough to be heard saying "I'll need you to try them on..." I pulled up a chair, got my glass of champagne, put my quarters in to the opera glass holder, and got ready for a show. I'm not sure we need to know anything X said (bar one exchange) so I'll just hit you with various quotes from the tailor:

"Why don't you buy clothes that fit?"
"I can do that. Turn. Good? Come back, you can't get that skirt off."
"How high do you them brought up? Do you have shoes?"
"They don't make 2 1/2 inch heels."
"It can't be done without shoes."
"These are grandma's shoes."
"Is that a hook? Can you hook it? You see, if it's not hooked I won't know if it's too tight"
"Do the hook first then the zipper. You'll ruin the zipper."
"Did you wash these [linen trousers]?"
"Yes. Linen shrinks."
"Yes, if you wash them again they will shrink again."
"I can't just take in the waist, it won't look good."

And the coup de grace - X had a pair of cuffed linen trousers, the same shrunk linen covered above, that she wanted lengthened. She says to the tailor, as she's holding them on the counter, "I want these as long as you make them. They don't have to cuffed." He starts to rip the seam while she's off to change into her white ever-twisting skirt (the one with the hook). When she pops out moments later and walks over to the counter he shows her the (rather obvious) problem with her request: the trousers, sans seam, actually has nine inches of extra material. This finding, which he knew to be coming, is met with this little nugget:

"Good. You want the pants six inches longer?"

It couldn't have been a more sardonic statement. I was fighting off the laughter.

What we've clearly stumbled into is a tailor of excellent ability with a dash of "I'll do this if I must but I'l be sure you know just how silly I think you are" mentality. He's perfect for X but we're not sure everyone would survive. Brilliant.

A quick dinner review from Saturday: spanikopita, tzatziki, gigantes, seafood omelette, and braised chicked. It got ravaged.

Another Monday at the end of the tunnel.

T.