Ari and Suzanne and their friends spent a weekend eating Chicago: they had dinner at Frontera Grill on Thursday. The next day I catastrophically ripped the back of my pants in the middle of lunch service. I had just high-fived my chef because we were crushing a busy lunch. My pants got caught on the pocket and tore all the way across the back.
I held up the ripped back and went to Nordstrom’s on my bike. I arrived in the middle of their men’s suit sale: there was a mad rush of male professionals looking to spend thousands on suits. Nobody paid attention to me in the crowded tailoring room or the dressing rooms, so I went to the register desk and spoke to the person who looked most important. I was fitted and repanted in less than an hour.