Man republic: Why I’m breaking up with my tailor

I am a disappointed soul today, and no, it’s not because it’s Valentine’s Day. In any case, every level-headed man is headed to the Men’s Conference but that’s beside the point.

Let me tell you what happened to me over Christmas. We were to have a family reunion -- you know, those family gatherings where relatives come to prove they are doing well in life. Where cousins inadvertently fall in love with each other and start questioning whether they are really related. Where the wayward, drunkard relative is admonished and given life examples of other relatives doing fairly well that he should emulate.

Cognizant to the fact that I was supposed to impress, I made my way to my all-time favourite tailor two weeks to Christmas day. I call her ‘all-time favourite’ though that’s not exactly what our relationship has been lately. From the camaraderie at the beginning, our relationship has degenerated into one full of lies. A coat that would take two days to mend now takes two weeks and a shirt whose seams need stitching will take two days instead of two hours.

But the Christmas ordeal was the worst. I found my tailor in high spirits. She had just received her share of the chama contribution and was in a jubilant mood. She was happy that the festive season was catered for. So I explained to her that I needed a suit ready for Christmas, gave her the measurements, a sum deposit for purchase of the materials needed, and got a firm promise that the “suit shall be ready in exactly a week” and off I was.

Exactly two days to Christmas, the family reunion was confirmed and yours truly was to be the master of ceremonies. I started feeling a bit like a clan elder or something. I reckoned my suit would now be ready so I made the 10-kilometre journey back to the tailor.

To my shock, I found her shop firmly locked. Surely, she couldn’t have forgotten our very important date? This also happened to be the day I remembered that my tailor does not own or operate a mobile phone, so if she wasn’t turning up, I was totally messed up. I spent the whole day and the next two days waiting and hoping for her return but to no avail.

Meanwhile, the family reunion day came and there were no ‘Christmas clothes’ for me. I was dressed averagely and I couldn’t help but notice the curious glances from the audience. Now there is a rumour that I am not doing well in life. I mean, “Isn’t that the shirt he has been wearing for over four years?”...and so on. All because of my tailor.

But that is not even the worst bit. A few days into January, my tailor (who now owns a new phone), called to say my Christmas suit was now ready. What the heck!

I have made up my mind that I no longer need that toxic relationship. I cannot continue living a life of lies. I am tired of being taken for granted, my tailor cannot make me feel so belittled. I cannot be an option from my tailor’s perspective while I continue considering her a priority. As far as tailors are concerned, I am single, happy and not searching.

@aseri_dick on twitter