Frank had always dreamed of being a rich man who got all of his shirts tailored. Now he wasn’t so sure.
Archie had taken Frank to Johnson’s Tailor Shop two hours ago, and Frank was still being measured. Johnson took exact measurements, and eventually, he let Frank go. Frank burst out of the shop joyfully, screaming, “Free! Free!” until Archie dragged him back into the store.
“Frank, stop acting like a child! I have a reputation, and I shouldn’t be around people like you!”
Frank shrugged. “It was very nice to get off that stand and away from that ridiculous tailor,” he replied.
“Well, your clothes will be finished soon. I will warn you. Specially tailored clothes are not to be jumped around in.”
After another hour, Frank’s suit was ready. Frank stared at it for one whole minute, basking in its glory. It was olive green with miniscule purple stripes, (but Frank didn’t notice, he was relatively color blind) with a matching hat. Archie said that it looked splendid (though it looked atrocious. Archie had chosen it because it was the cheapest) and Johnson beamed (but on the inside, he was thinking These men have the taste of blind buffaloes). Then Archie paid the bill and he and Frank left.
“Do you think Betty will like it?” asked Frank, suddenly fearful.
“She will adore it, Frank,” said Archie warmly.
When they reached Archie’s mansion, Archie stopped at the gate.
“Women are incredibly gullible, Frank. I bet you could convince Bessie or Betty or whatever her name is that walking to the restaurant is elegant.”
“Why would I do that?” asked Frank.
Archie turned and walked into his house, letting the gate slam behind him. “Because I don’t want to pay the bill for a hack,” he called back irritably.
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