SAMUEL H. LUNT
I went out yesterday looking through every chic city store for a travel suit. I've decided if I'm going to travel I'd better look respectable. After a full day of grueling discernment, I landed some spiff duds in an off, off Soho thrift store.
The suit is so me. I don't think Cecil was just lying to make a sale. I had tried on thirteen suits and it wasn't until I told him my goal of donning a travel uniform that he went in back and produced something so butterfly.
I put it on in the tiny dressing corner wondering if there was a security camera pointed at me and if the girl that just came into the store had noticed my mismatched socks. Either way it didn't matter because when I appeared from behind the curtain with my new travel suit the world stopped to pick me up.
Cecil, a gay guy from the East Village, was a superb salesman outfitting me in the perfect cut vintage threads that had the girl stopping and staring.
"So, would you pick me up if I were on the road hitchhiking?" I asked her.
She walked over and planted a slow and deliberate kiss on my chest.
My super travel suit came equipped with inside pockets for hiding money and travel goods. It can hold several days worth of underpants without a bulge. The special material was designed to withstand cold while withstanding heat. It works like a wetsuit and is water resistant up to 30 feet. Best of all, it changes color to adapt to my environment so it's light during the day and dark at night. It can also sense the level of dress and tone itself down for more casual events. It's totally cosmic.
As I checked out, Cecil's tongue slipped out between his lips. He had a tiny, little split tongue like a snake and he breathed through it just like a snake. That made me a little nervous but he said it's okay to buy a suit from a snake. So be it. My plan was to wait until I actually left for my trip to wear it, but I was so excited by the girl's reaction that I wore the suit home.
As soon as I hit the street girls whistled and beeped their horns at me as they drove past. The attention was fun but a little much and the suit sensed it. Within a minute I was not being bothered anymore, as the suit got darker and more conservative. Soon people were asking me the time and bums asked me for change.
As I passed the ruffians on Saint Mark's Place my suit changed into a spiked denim jacket. They thought I was one of them and said hello. I love the suit. Nothing could be more chameleon and I'm totally Zelig in it.
When I got home I realized there was more to the suit than met the eye. I got one hell of a bargain for my $25 dollars! The whole thing unfolds and turns into a sleeping bag/tent. What jargon! My cheeks are red from smiling! I think I could eat butter off this suit.
With my new shell I'm going to be able to do anything. I'm ready to take on the world. All I need now is a reason to live.