So, to finish the story about the tuxes, which I started here and continued here, let me begin by telling you about my friend Danger. In Danger’s world, time works differently. For example, let’s say you needed to be somewhere—like at the airport, say, or an appointment or a movie, and the flight or the appointment or the movie starts at 11 AM, and let’s say the airport or wherever the appointment takes place, such as an office or a diner, or the movie theater are twenty minutes away, then according to “Danger Time,” as I’ve come to call it, the proper time to leave—given the need to stop on the way for gas or a sandwich or to visit a relative—is 10:52 AM.
Perhaps this is a bit of exaggeration, but I have in fact dropped Danger off at an airport mere minutes before his flight boarded and I have numerous times over the years waited for Danger to arrive somewhere or for Danger to ready himself for departure to somewhere, a problem given that for every part that Danger is carefree and laid back, I myself am equal parts riddled with anxiety, leading me often to silently curse that blasted Danger and his dastardly habits, even though despite these habits things for Danger generally tend to “all work out.” He made that flight, probably stopping for a snack, and despite my anxieties and silent cursing, we always seem to arrive places on time, or at least on time enough.
Let me give you a more recent example of this phenomenon: Danger was the best man in my wedding, which was three weeks ago today. That Friday, the wedding being on a Saturday, we spent the day setting up the reception hall, with a rehearsal scheduled at 5 PM, dinner to follow. Danger and his wife, Leah, whose wedding I was in around three months ago, arrived to town around eleven or noon, along with our friend, Pam, and they helped us with the set-up. We left the reception hall at 2. The idea of driving to Stockton to pick up Danger’s tux was at that point brought up, but it was decided to first have lunch.
At 2:30, when lunch was over, I suggested that if Danger was going to be back in time for the rehearsal he should go now to The Men’s Wearhouse, which, again, is in Stockton, specifically at the mall, and which in my estimation was at least twenty-five minutes away, maybe thirty, from where we stood in Lodi. But Danger, who lives four-and-a-half hours away in San Luis Obispo and had never before been to the mall in Stockton, felt strongly that, No, he had plenty of time and would rather come back to my house and hang out for awhile, leaving for The Men’s Wearhouse instead at 3:30. So Leah and Pam headed to their hotel and Danger came with me, leaving Leah instructions to pick him up in an hour. At 3:30, when Leah arrived, I convinced Danger, as I had attempted to do after lunch, that he in fact could not drive to the mall in Stockton and try on and pick up a tux and drive back in time for the 5 o’clock rehearsal, let alone be back in time to set up for the rehearsal at 4, as we were supposed to do. So it was decided that Danger and Leah would go at 10 the following morning, when The Men’s Wearhouse opened.
That Saturday, we had a 4 PM wedding followed by a dinner reception, with various and continuous maneuvers and preparations throughout the day. Sometime mid-morning, in the midst of these maneuvers and preparations, I saw Danger who confirmed that the 10 o’clock visit to The Men’s Wearhouse had gone well. Danger and Leah were extremely helpful throughout the day, and it wasn’t until 2 in the afternoon—the time when we, the groomsmen, having set up the wedding site at Lodi Lake, were scheduled to return to the house and dress and be back to the lake at 3—that I learned that at 10 that morning Danger had not picked up his tux but rather had tried it on and learned that they needed to make some slight alterations and he could pick it up later in the day, which worried me, given the time, but which Danger declared was fine because Leah was leaving right now (2 PM) to go get it and would be back around 2:30 or 2:45, to which I made a probably-passive-aggressive comment that there was no way she’d be back before 3:15.
It was around this time that I and my two other groomsmen—Matt and CR—began to get dressed and, as described in the post “Let Me Tell You About The Men’s Wearhouse,” we learned that instead of Matt’s tux, The Men’s Wearhouse had given us the tux of someone named Scott whose wedding was a day earlier and who was getting married (or had planned to anyway) in a white tux with tails. Our tuxes were black with no tails. I immediately called The Men’s Wearhouse, where the first response was Hey, you know, someone called yesterday looking for that tux, and Danger immediately called Leah, who had just left The Men’s Wearhouse and was turning around to go back. At this point, it was between 2:30 and 2:40, and I was a bit panicked. By 2:50, Leah had the correct tux in hand and was headed our way, but I was sure that it would take her thirty or forty minutes, meaning that by the time Danger and Matt dressed we would have barely enough time to make it out to the lake for the 4 o’clock ceremony. Danger countered that Leah would be there in fifteen minutes and it would take he and Matt like five minutes to dress.
As it was, Leah broke a land speed record, arriving at the front door in twelve minutes, reporting that cars had parted like The Red Sea as she roared up Highway 99 at ninety-plus miles per hour.
By 3:30, we were at the wedding site, greeting guests. If not for Danger’s footloose and fancy-free ways, Leah would have been nowhere near The Men’s Wearhouse at 2:30 that afternoon, and—being that as we waited for Leah we decided that this was the option that would look the least weird—Matt would’ve had to wear my black tux and I would’ve gotten married in someone named Scott’s white tux with tails.