The Tailor

The stale smell of wet dog filled came from every corner and crack in the room, yet Scott did not see any sign of a dog. He looked anxiously over the top of the tailor’s head for any sign of a dog, cat or even a loose hamster but could find nothing. His anxiety did not stem from a hatred of animals, though he found cats to be aggressively pretentious, rather he simply hoped that no beast would come through and ruin his suit. The last thing he wanted was to return to the tailor only to find his property ruined followed by an elementary school excuse.

Scott’s anxiety subsided once the tailor rose from the floor and began stretching the tape measure from Scott’s shoulder to his wrist. The tailor was an old Italian man with a thick pepper mustache that put Scott’s brown stubble to shame. The old tailor did not talk much except to recommend suits with the brightly colored linings reminiscent of the wardrobe choice in an old John Travolta movie. Scott tried on a few of these disco jackets before he felt like the old man was satisfied, then he selected a classic black suit to try on. While looking in the mirror, Scott felt like a Hollywood star or a super spy ready to save the world and get the girl. In reality, he was just a scrawny college graduate with a mustachioed Italian man wrapping a measuring tape above his junk.

“Right now it fits pretty good, I just have to make a few adjustments. Mostly I just have to take in the waist of the pants and the back of the jacket. You like it?” The tailor backed away from the podium he made Scott stand on and admired the suit around the man.

“Yeah, yeah I really like it. It looks nice,” Scott stretched out his arms and examined the suit sleeves.

“You don’t want to try on the white and red suit again? Ladies love it,” The tailor smiled and pointed to a dangerously ridiculous suit hanging nearby.

“Oh, uh, no that’s okay. I’ll stick with this one,” Scott stepped down.

“Alright, suit yourself. Ah, get it? I say that all the time,” The tailor laughed to himself and began walking to the front registers. Scott smiled and went into the changing room.

Scott watched himself in the mirror as he changed from a dapper man of wealth into a graphic-tee wearing scruffy youth. He was happy with his choice of suit. He had no particular reason to wear it yet, but now that it would soon be in his possession, he would go out of his way to find an excuse.

After he paid the tailor and scheduled a time to pick up his suit in a few weeks, Scott headed to his car with the receipt. His old vehicle trembled as he entered it, and the radio blasted out “Pyscho Killer” into Scott’s face along with the air conditioning. When he drove out of the parking lot, only the soft sound of banging from within the trunk could be heard by pedestrians. Driving home and listening to the muffled noises from the back, Scott pictured himself adorned in his new suit very soon.

via Daily Prompt: Tailor

Hi everyone, I am trying out something new here so bear with me while I work out the kinks. My goal right now is to create an ongoing story somehow related to the Daily Prompt from Daily Mail every Friday. As of right I am trying out something new here so bear with me while I work out the kinks. My goal right now is to create an ongoing story somehow related to the Daily Prompt from The Daily Post every Friday. As of right now, I have very little idea where this story is going or how long it will last, but I just wanted to write some fiction on this blog and I hope that you all enjoy it and are in for the ride. Thank you for reading and have a nice day!



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