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Tuxedo-Challenge

Tux Challenge Day 31: — 30 —

| 5 years ago
Why do I feel a little like Rick Perry?
Why do I feel a little like Rick Perry?

I discovered two things on this, the final day of the Great Tuxedo Challenge of 2012, brought to you by Patron XO Cafe, with special help from Al’s Formal Wear: 1) Patron XO Cafe works well in coffee. I’m not sure why it took me this long to try that particular concoction. It’s like an Irish coffee, only more Mexican. And 2) Al’s Formal Wear can hook you up with a Texas flag vest-and-tie combo. It’s a good thing this discovery came so late in the game, because I feel certain if Zac had known about it earlier, he would have made me wear the Texas stuff for the entire month. Not that I don’t love Texas with all my heart. It’s just that — well, you understand.

You know, if you ask any guy who writes, especially a guy who tries to write funny, if he’s honest, he’ll tell you — wait that’s the wrong speech. Hang on.

Thanks to Zac for coming up with the challenge and stringing it together. You’re still not getting a piggyback ride to the parking garage.

Thanks to Patron XO Cafe for sponsoring the whole thing and for being the wind beneath my wings.

Thanks to Al’s Formal Wear for the tuxedos, especially the one I destroyed while crawling under my house. My apologies again, in advance, for destroying one of the cuff links.

Thanks to Lord baby Jesus, lying there in your ghost manger, just looking at your Baby Einstein developmental videos, learning about shapes and colors, for making the second half of August unseasonably cool.

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Tux Challenge Day 28: Cutting Up

| 5 years ago
Around the fancy yard art in back, I found many dog turds and made it clear that I would not mow over them.
Around the fancy yard art in back, I found many dog turds and made it clear that I would not mow over them.

I know this fellow. I can’t tell you much about him, because he wishes to remain anonymous. But a couple weeks back, I was having a beer with him, wearing the tuxedo (natch), and this fellow hit on an idea.

“I’ll pay you $100 to mow my lawn in the tux,” he said.

“Done!” I replied and offered to shake on it before he could back down.

That was my first mistake. Never settle for the first offer. I’m certain I left $50 on the table. Maybe twice that amount. Because this fellow is the sort that has no idea what a lawn mowing is worth. Similarly, I am confident that he doesn’t know what a gallon of milk costs. This fellow is so far removed from the maintenance of his own property that he doesn’t even own a lawn mower. Which is why he said I’d have to bring mine.

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Tux Challenge Day 27: Best-Dressed Spelunking Do-It-Your-Selfer

| 5 years ago
If you were a rat under my house Sunday afternoon, this is what you would have seen.
If you were a rat under my house Sunday afternoon, this is what you would have seen.

There are few places I hate more than the crawl space under my house. It is dark and musty. It is like Satan’s colon. Aging duct work crisscrosses the cramped space. Dessicated rat droppings lie everywhere. Cobwebs hang from the joists, under which I am forced to belly-crawl in spots, using my elbows to inch along, lest I bump my head. Except I always do bump my head.

Imagine my disgust, then, on Sunday afternoon as I came to the conclusion, while tuxedo clad and hung over, that under the house was where I was headed. My friend Laura had turned 40 the night before. An ’80s cover band played the party. You’ll understand, sweet child o’ mine, if I over-served myself. That explains the hangover. The reason for the trip under the house is a little more complicated.

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Tux Challenge Day 16: I Got Some ‘Splaining To Do

| 5 years ago
Do we have a bean bag in the office, over in the art department? Yes, we do. And I sat on it.
Do we have a bean bag in the office, over in the art department? Yes, we do. And I sat on it.

The Great Tuxedo Challenge of 2012, brought to you by Patron XO Cafe, with special help from Al’s Formal Wear, has presented certain, um, challenges that I had not anticipated. I didn’t understand how hard it would be to get up on skis while wearing a tuxedo, for example. Similarly, I didn’t understand how many times in the course of an average day I would have to explain — or, as I’ve come to prefer, try not to explain — why I’m wearing a tuxedo.

For instance, getting my kids registered for school entailed a lot of interaction with other parents and school officials. There was a room, and in that room there were many tables. At each table, there were electives to be chosen, volunteer opportunities to sign up for, green pencil bags to acquire, etc., and so on. And at each table there was seated a person who wanted to know why I was wearing a tuxedo.

Curious human at Table 1: “Well, I guess I didn’t get the memo!”
Me: “Yessir! You must have missed that memo! Gotta keep your eyes open for those memos!”
Curious human at Table 1: “Seriously. Why’re you wearing a tux?”
Me: [lengthy, exhausting explanation involving the time-wasting predilections of Zac Crain and the genesis of the bet and the payoff thereto]

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