So, I’m eating dinner and talking to my neighbour the other night and the subject of ratty clothes comes up. I happen to be wearing my favourite shirt which has had a tear in the armpit for, well…years. I lift my arm to display the fact that, in any Ratty Clothing Competition that is currently taking place, I am the Alpha. Just before I beat my chest and unleash a howl of victory upon the neighborhood I realise that…it’s gone. The hole is not a hole anymore.
Someone sewed up my shirt. But who? When? Why?
It puzzles me right away because I “wuz gunna” get it sewn up for a while now (at least two years) but it was concealed in my armpit and let’s just say that my grooming standards have dropped a bit since I left home. Hilariously I still considered it to be my “good shirt”; a squirt of 4 year old cologne, actually wearing underwear under my shorts and the “good shirt” with the gaping rip in the armpit means it’s probably date night.
I’ve been doing my own laundry for over 7 months and, when I travel I usually just save it for when I get home. Like I said about the grooming standards right? Was it taken off the line at my apartment, sewn up and put back in secret? I doubt it but…what then? Who? When did I send it out for washing last? I rack my brains. I’m pretty sure the rip was there not long ago. But when did I last see it? Total mystery.
It’s a small thing no doubt; I’m sure an experienced seamstress or tailor could have sewn it up in ten minutes. But, the fact that someone did that, took the time, anonymously, without request and to my “good shirt” no less, made my day, even if I lost the Ratty Clothing Competition.
Kob khun maaa krub whoever and wherever you are.
Pom rak Muang Thai.