Tux

Corey has a tux. We wrangled up our friend Ayo, who knows how to dress well and would never wear olive brown cords with an olive brown sweater as Corey often does, and took him to the tux shop.

It was so interesting to watch Corey grow visibly uncomfortable in the shop. Like he had no faculties to ask questions or even think in a logical order. The woman asked him some questions about jackets and he blurted "Our wedding is out doors in May." Or she would be talking about shoes and his eyes would dart over to the mannequins and all of a sudden he was talking about bowties and pocket squares. His shoulders got all tense. I couldn't tell if he was scared to be married, nervous to have to speak to this girl (a stranger!) or thinking that yes indeedy, people would be staring at him soon and he needed to look good.

I felt kind of bad for him in his discomfort. Thankfully, Ayo picked out some nice stuff and we left there with a tuxedo plan.

Back in his happy place, behind the wheel of the rented Pontiac, Corey was free to do things he actually enjoyed. Like drive all over Philadelphia looking for a wireless signal so we could find a Chinatown bus to take Ayo home to New York. We should have shopped for the formal wear from the driver's seat and had the girl bring different suits out on roller skates.