To be honest, I do not have a definable style. At work usually, I am a khaki and polo shirt person sometimes. There are a few days a month I do put on a suit for meetings with board members or with new customers. Because I am usually a home body, my attire at home is usually sweatpants and a T-shirt. When we do go out, I do put on a pair of jeans because Marcie prefers me in them. My shirts depend on whether it's warm or cold and whether I am wearing a jacket. I am not a stylish person at all.
Marcie is the direct opposite. Her outfits when we go out consist of jeans and nice tops. She is consistent, but she's classy with it. Of course, in my mind, she looks gorgeous while I look like a schlub.
It isn't that we are financially challenged. Honestly, I could have hired a stylist and whatever. That's just not what I do. I'm not looking fancy. I want to be comfortable when I go out. It was this mindset when a chain western wear store opened in a nearby town. It was a silly thought on my mind. Whenever we go to the western bar that we like, I look very plain while Marcie looks amazing. It was a thought that I would check it out just maybe for a nice shirt to wear.
The store was quiet since it was open for a few weeks already. As I walked through, I strived to avoid the gaze of the store attendants. Contrary to popular belief, I dislike dealing with pushy salespeople. Except for my best friend, I try the best I can to avoid them. The woman that walked up to me was not pushy. She was rather reserved. She asked me a few questions about what I was looking for before guiding me towards what I could like. It was friendly and very low-pressure. I settled for a couple of long-sleeved T-shirts and a burgundy dress shirt. To surprise Marcie, I attempted to carry them into the house win my briefcase.
Have I mentioned lately how psychic Marcie can be?
"What are you up to, Leo?" she asked, the curious look on her face.
I smiled at her.
"I bought some long-sleeved shirts."
She looked at me.
"You want me to help hang them up?"
I resigned myself to my fate as we went into the bedroom and grabbed hangers. As we undid the stickers and tags off the first one, she noticed the color.