Of Men in Suits

Who doesn’t love a man in suit? And when I say suit I mean the well fitted kind coupled with a good shirt, perfect length and the perfect inverted triangle. No, I don’t want to know with too much certainty whether the man is dressed to the right or left *chuckles* (yes I know what side it is supposed to be on when wearing a fitting trouser) stop judging and cringing it is public knowledge! In another world I would be a fashionista albeit for our brothers because girl fashion is a tad conundrum for me. Ladies, don’t hate I’m just being very real one day it’s a disaster to colour block next thing it’s totally appropriate and every lady in town is doing a yellow-green or a red-blue yeah…fashion!

There’s something about a man in a suit; he is bestowed with intrepidity, someone amenable and a moral obligation possibly. I am a very traditional person well yes I acknowledge the whole casual outfit that’s gradually creeping in most firms and organizations simple t-shirts and jeans guys who run multibillion empires with the onset of social media and technology but still, suits for me portray a man who has his act together; why else would interviews expect one to be in a suit huh! That being very generally mentioned lest I’m ambushed by every male I know proclaiming suits are not mandatory. I think suits I think Harvey Specter and Barney Stinson’s suits: cut to precision; bold across the shoulders and gentle lines around the waist and amazingly sexy (yeah fictional characters… blah blah…so what!

So being a Monday, bubbling with energy for the new week high hopes and focused to do better than last week I wouldn’t expect what happened from a guy in a suit. Yes we do all encounter drama in the most unexpected of moments but never thought I would live to see the day when I literally laughed my ass off. I mean I do lmao at those tweets that pass by my timeline every now and then and some memes but that’s just it, a giggle, a snort and a hmmm… concocted  in a smile and life moves on but today sent me cracking. This has got to be in the list of name and shame or better yet in the book of ‘how to be a gentleman for dummies.’

I was going about my business in town and had to do a bank transaction. The bank figured out something on queuing and waiting time as I would recall on the quantitative analysis paper I sat for some time back but still beats reason with two tellers serving an entire queue I had to wait for fifty three clients to be served before my turn and had to resign on the generous seats offered at the waiting bay (got to give credit for that. standing in line is more tiresome) and the seats give a splendid view to notice what is happening. Surprisingly the ticket number does not give me an average time of how long I have to wait for my turn so normally I go through my phone exhaust my social updates; read the several pages I have saved to read later and what not barely thirty minutes are over and my phone is already on low battery (smart phone problems but do I say!)

I am seated next to this gentleman in his late twenties from the looks who has been reading intently one of the dailies. Everything  about the guy spells immaculate from the impeccable look to the cool demeanour, the power black suit to the tie to the shirt oh…the shirt I have a fetish for white and his is marble white to the shoes (how do you describe shoes?) Oh well good shoes! He’s done reading his paper and is now strumming the edge of the chair with his car keys or probably just office keys *pulls off a stupid grin* as the impatience lucidly shows on his face. I have stared too much so I make pretend to look through my phone for a non-existent message. Beside him there’s an elderly gentleman in his late thirties I presume, very casual and patiently waiting for his turn at the teller who from the first glance meets my description of an Elijah…cool and composed.

The big screen announces a free teller with the consequent ticket number and the elderly man stands to approach the teller. Next thing I know Mr guy in suit suddenly stands, grabs the ticket number which the Elijah guy is loosely holding in hand and makes it to the teller just before the other guy. I have watched the entire scenario which happens in less than a flash and my brain goes on a freeze as I pick the pieces trying to comprehend what the hell just happened. Everything else happens in a blur, Elijah guy trying to reason with the teller that his ticket has just been grabbed, the audience hysterically laughing and Mr suit in uproar asking if Elijah claims that was his ticket was grabbed, he should explain where Mr suit’s ticket is. I have joined in the somewhat laughter which is basically nasty remarks about Mr suit who is just talking incoherently.  By now the teller calms Elijah and assures she will serve him next and Mr suit is served and calmly walks out as if nothing has happened.

I am too astounded to make small talk with Elijah who’s talking to me saying something about how the young adults are arrogant and have no respect at all and I’m just nodding my head in agreement. Woi! I think to myself what has the world come to? Is this the in thing: monstrous insolence? If I had my way I’d have shot Mr suit right there and then and parade him in the dead beat record of men without conscience nay, a functioning brain. I have never felt so disgusted and embarrassed and I make a mental note the next time I run into Mr suit (ours is a small town) my fist shall do wonders! And that, ladies and gentlemen is how I came to learn not all that comes in a suit glitters.