Monday, October 04, 2010

The Tailor Crushes Me

So, I picked up a couple of suits a few months back and, thanks to a long summer of heat and lots of walking around, the pants are now falling off me.  I've got this incredible tailor who works out of an office where I work.  The guy does tons of work for movies, broadway and tv, along with making clothes, and altering clothes for normal folks to wear in normal situations. 

The guy's incredible and his prices are pretty fair so I brought my pants in to work today to let him fix them up for me.  Instead, I got my ego crushed.

The tailor is about 4' 8".  Little munchkin of a man.  He's from Greece but it says he's from Paris on the front door.  I asked him about it once and he told me, in his heavy greek accent, "greeks aren't known for their clothing or tailors."  Makes sense.

Anyway, I haven't seen him in a while so I stop in, with my pants, and we start up a bit of small talk.  He's busy as hell, new shows filming in NY, movies etc.  He's got some new photos of actors wearing his clothes on the walls, all of them signed, thanking him for being such a fine tailor. 

I slip on my pants, hop up on the block and he starts chalking and pinning and he tells me the tailor who did the suit the first time did a terrible job.  I switch the other pants and he starts to do the same thing and he says these fit better but there's a problem in the way they lie on my body.  He pins and chalks and then he points out how the front crotch area is puckering and I ask him why that would happen and he says it.  He looks up at me, this dwarf of a man, and says, in his heavy greek accent, "you don't have enough in there to fill out the pants."

My jaw dropped.  I sat there, staring down at Bilbo Baggins, thinking, "did he just call me pin dick?" Seriously, this guy, standing up, is dick height next to me.  My cock should look like a fucking elephant trunk to his elfish eyes and, yet, he's telling me I need to stuff my drawers to fill out my pants.

I've always been quick to joke about my small dick but, in my eyes, I was always joking.  No, I'm not saying I'm walking around with a fire hose between my legs but I never thought I'd see the day when an oompah loompah is mocking my manhood.

I wanted to whip it out and show him that I was normal, like everyone else but then, I realized, all the fear and pressure would result in my pecker pulling a turtle, inverting itself to hide from the prying eyes of the little man with the chalk and the pins.

Instead, I figuratively tucked my tail between my legs because, apparently, I don't have enough tail to tuck, got dressed and went back to my office wondering if all the women who've seen my dick have said the same thing, that Floogin's McNoogin is MctTiny.

I'd ask my wife but she's no judge of these things and I'd have to show it to her for her to offer an opinion and I'm fairly sure looking at my dick is a few notches below eating glass and blowing a rhino on her bucket list.

So, I guess I'm looking for an impartial judge to inspect the little general, see if he's up to code.

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