The world's most memorable man.
This next story requires me to be quite specific in describing the physical attributes of its subject. So in order to allay any concerns that my description may come across as prejudice or judgmental, I thought it would be an interesting exercise to first describe myself. To spice things up, I imagined how a police officer might take down a description of me in the event, say, I was suspected of shoplifting.
“Well Officer, the man you are looking for is a 50 year-old-ish white man about mid-height, with a slight, scrawny build. He was wearing a shirt and tie and a well-fitting suit, however his trousers did seem to be a little on the short side.
Facially, he has sharp, not unattractive features (7 out of 10, on-a-good-day), prescription spectacles that sat on a bigger than average, angular nose. Mousey-blonde-going-grey unruly, thinning hair, worn in a style that would perhaps be more suitable on one of the members of Duran Duran. Oh yes, his accent, it was British, as were his tombstone-like teeth.”
So, now that we have that out of the way, I shall begin.
I was alone in the store one afternoon, when two gentleman came in enquiring as to whether or not we made custom pants.
The main enquirer was unmistakably a body-builder and it looked like he had just come from the gym. He was dressed in very baggy sweatpants and a loose fitting (almost shirtless) singlet. I told them that we did indeed make custom trousers. There followed a little bit of my usual preamble about us, the approximate time-frame and a ball park figure of the cost.
All seemed agreeable and he expressed a need to do "custom" due to the physical manifestations resulting from his diligent work-out routine.
I explained that I understood and that an appointment would be best, as I would like him to come back when my wife would be in the store, as she took all the measurements and that her skill set was going to be needed for his specific body type.
He told me his name was Dave and that the gentleman accompanying him was Robert, his husband.
We confirmed an appointment for the same time the next day and I asked that he bring some closer fitting trousers so that Betty could get a better idea of his true physique, thus ensuring accurate measurements could to be taken.
This was pre-iPhone days so it was customary for us to write down forthcoming appointments in our desk diary. If it were a new client, the name was usually accompanied by a brief description of the person as we found that it helped us identify them quickly and greet them by name when they came in. Always a good start in our book.
But in this case, I just wrote “Dave”.
Later that afternoon, Betty saw the diary and asked, “Who’s Dave?” I explained he was a potential trouser client and that he was easily identifiable by the following characteristics:
Extremely ripped body builder, mid-thirties, buzz-cut blonde hair with theatrical mannerisms. Also highly distinguishable as a person with albinism and quite severe exotropia in one eye.
Exotropia is the condition that causes the eye to turn outward.
The following day, Betty immediately recognized Dave as he bounded into the store, alone this time. We greeted him warmly and after a little pleasantries and small talk, we all agreed on two fabrics choices that would be suitable for multiple purposes.
The exotropia made things slightly tricky as he had to contort his head sideways to look closely at the fabric swatches, which was a little surprising at first, but the conversation flowed well and we knew it was our job to make him feel relaxed and at ease.
Excited with his choices, Dave seemed to be enjoying the process and all the attention. His theatrical mannerisms shifted up a gear as the formal measuring process began and he bounded off to the changing room to put on his own dress trousers.
He emerged confidently, albeit topless, asking if we had a shirt that he could borrow. He was in incredible shape, a mass of flexed muscle that he was obviously very proud of.
It turned out his initial shirtless reveal had diverted our attention from yet another highly impressive physical attribute this man possessed. It soon became evident to us the true reason he needed custom tailoring, for as he emerged the second time and stood before us in his own tightly fitted dress pants, there for all the to all the world to see, like a caged mammal in an exotic pet store, was what appeared to be an absolutely enormous penis.
Dave was no doubt quite used to the effect his friend was causing and gave me a knowing glance.
Ever the professional, Betty measured all three legs and spoke to him, quite matter-of-factly, about the task at hand and how best to address his unique, personal needs.
Dave left the store delighted, presumably knowing that he had certainly given us something to talk about. (Or as it would seem, even write about many years later.)
Later that day, Betty debriefed our tailor on the project. The conversation sounded more like a site manager briefing a contractor on a building site. Our tailor was experienced in such matters and advised on a couple of tailoring tricks that would be useful under these circumstances.
A few weeks later, Dave returned for his fitting and we proudly presented him with the highly flattering custom trousers our tailor had made. He was thrilled with his commission and left the store positively skipping, or possibly pole vaulting.
It felt good to have helped him out and we hoped that from that day forward, this delightful and highly unique man would perhaps add one more descriptor to his list: Dave, the guy with the nicely fitting trousers.
Over the years, Dave had not been the only owner of an oversized organ that Betty had had to navigate during her many trouser fittings. And whilst he definitely held the champion's belt, one other gentleman also comes to mind.
By contrast, he was a rather ordinary, middle-aged gentleman.
He was having a blazer made with us and during his first fitting I mentioned that he could do with a pair of trimmer, better fitting trousers, as his new "tailored" blazer was highlighting the fact that his current trousers seemed way-too generous in the “family jewels” department, giving the impression that he was a lot heavier-set than he actually was.
“I’d love to,” he said, “but I find it very difficult to get trousers that fit in that area.”
Betty knowingly reassured him that she was more experienced in that matter than she’d like to admit and that our tailor knew what to do, to which he replied that whilst that was very comforting to know, he was unfortunately “big in the wrong area”.
“Big balls?” I enquired rather candidly. (I always thought it best to confront the elephant in the room, so to speak.) “Afraid so.” he replied and then went on to quite comically explain that his offending “two veg” were not even marginally out of proportion and that their size was made worse by a seemingly smaller-than-average “meat” department.
I’m pleased to say that once again we triumphed and delivered a pair of beautifully tailored, highly flattering trousers.
I actually can’t remember his name, but I’m guessing that he’s probably listed in the desk diary somewhere with the descriptor: