Well, I feel downright violated by the whole affair! To begin with, it took me ten minutes to explain to him that I did not want him to make a tuxedo for me and that all I wanted was the measurements taken so that I could order the right tux. Having crossed this little bridge of communication, he handed me the tape measure as though I were going to measure my own arms. I politely gave it to him and tried to make it clear that it was HIS duty to measure me...I have a hard enough time using a measuring cup, let alone measuring my own inseam.
With much harumphing and some wheezing, he set about measuring me for my shirt size (15" neck, 34-35), coat size (38 R), sleeve (24 out, 16.5 in), and waist (32). Then he told me he needed to measure my 'seat.' I rightly took this to mean that he wanted to know, crudely put, how big my butt is. With much aplomb he lassoed me with the measuring tape and then kept squinting at the number in front of him. "This can't be right," he kept muttering, "your seat does not look this big, but my measurement says you have big seat." He measured it at a staggering (?) 42.
I have no idea what that number really means, but it has made me terribly self-conscious and I'm now thinking I should order some Suzanne Sommers product to remedy the situation.
On a less self-centered note, I'd ask your prayers for the men taking their De U exams tomorrow. At the end of the MAPR here at Fordham (Master of Arts in Philosophical Resources -- a program for Jesuit Scholastics) we face a 1-hour oral exam in front of a panel of three professors who ask questions covering much of the history of Western philosophy. As menu coordinator, I'm in charge of having a breakfast for the men tomorrow -- so after dinner tonight, I'll be cutting fruit, preparing a special yogurt dish, and dicing vegetables for omelets...while I have no control over how well they answer questions, I'll be darn sure that they don't do it on an empty stomach!