Sunday, February 19, 2006

Dunn. Brian Dunn

Last year I bought a tuxedo. I've rented tuxedos perhaps three times in my life--including my wedding. So my purchase wasn't exactly something to save me money on rentals. I don't, to put it kindly, have a tuxedo sort of social life. I mean, not yet anyway.

But there it was in the store--from shoes and socks to the bow tie. And on sale. So I bought it. I joked that I was going to be the "guy with a tuxedo." That's how women would come to think of me--the guy who can grab the tuxedo out of the closet at a moment's notice and hit the shaken martini-set social whirl. I'm single, I figured, so it could be "my thing" that sets me apart from other lesser men. (And yes, yes, I mean other than my intellect, wit, and good looks.)

At worst, if I wear the tux only three times I get back my investment. That's not too much to assume, is it?

So I own a tuxedo. I'm a "tuxedo-owning guy." It still sits in my closet ready to go. I don't know when exactly I will get a chance to put it on, but one never knows. I like to think of it as an expression of confidence in the future. A future where women swoon and men feel inadequate in my presence.

A tuxedo-wearing future in which I will look spectacular.