Halloween is 11 days away, we leave for Orlando in 5 days, and I had a pretty major costume malfunction last night. Let’s just say that a project I elected to do myself on my costume, which should have been a simple DIY, went horribly wrong. I had to take the main piece of the costume to our tailor to be fixed today.
For reference, our tailor shop consists of an older, married Vietnamese couple. We have taken many items to them, from dresses for our cruises to pants to be tailored for E and Landon. They definitely recognize me due to my hair color and I’m pretty sure they’d remember E if he went back in. They always have the shop television tuned to a Vietnamese channel. I didn’t even know those were available in Alabama. Anyway, they always talk to each other in Vietnamese, which has never bothered me until today.
I was already a little embarrassed to take the item in to be fixed. It’s kind of silly but as I was driving there, I determined that I’d be very detached about the whole thing, like it wasn’t even mine. Here’s what went down, described in the vaguest possible way so I don’t give away the costume theme, which is a surprise.
Me (placing the item on the counter and for all the embarrassment I felt, it may as well have been my own personal panties): I tried to iron these on with adhesive but they keep popping up when worn.
Man Tailor says nothing but glares at them while poking them down, somehow thinking they’ll stay for him. Valiant but useless to me at this point.
Me: Could you sew them on? So they’ll stay down when worn?
Man Tailor: You did this?
Tailor Man pokes at them a bit more angrily, then turns to his wife, Tailor Woman, says something in Vietnamese, and shows her my screw up. Tailor Man and Woman discuss my costume predicament for a minute and Tailor Woman starts laughing. Then Tailor Man starts laughing. Tailor Man starts stretching the garment and they laugh harder.
Me (weakly): It’s a Halloween costume. We’re going as XYZ. To Disney World.
Tailor Woman: Honey, not worth it. Too much money.
Tailor Man (putting the garment back on the counter between us and looks at it with disdain): Too much. Not worth it.
Me: Well, can it be done?
Tailor Man: Have to sew around here.
Me: Yes, I know. That’s what I want. How much will it cost?
Tailor Man: You sure?
Tailor Man (pokes at one in particular): $7.
Me: $7 each?
Tailor Man (Pokes at each one of them now, doing the math): $7, $14, $21.
Me: Okay, so $21?
Tailor Man: $20 fine. You sure?!
Me: Yes, I really need this! When can I pick it up?
Tailor Man: You sure?
Tailor Man: Tomorrow, same time.
Me: Okay, see you then.
Tailor Woman says something to Tailor Man and they both refrain from giggling but barely.
Tailor Man (holding up the garment): Is this yours?
Me: Nope. It’s my husbands.
I learned two valuable lessons today. First, laughter and mockery don’t need to be translated, people. Secondly, I will not hesitate to throw you under the bus to save face at the tailor shop. I’m not sure what that says about me but there it is. I have a feeling E will find another tailor to alter his next pair of pants.
Final installment of my Orlando Halloween series will happen maybe later tonight or maybe tomorrow or someday. It’s crazy busy and I had to get laughed at in Vietnamese today. Cut me some slack, y’all. Hope you had a great Monday!