1
The
blazer was far too big for me and we all knew it. I knew it, the Old Girl knew it, and the exasperated shop assistant
knew it.
“It’s far too big for him, “the Old Girl
said looking me up and down.
“On the bright side, at least this one
buttons up madam, “the exasperated shop assistant said trying to raise some
semblance of a smile.
“But just look at it. He’s going to
secondary school, not poxy circus school. “
“It’s the last one madam. We don’t stock any
larger. “
They both looked at me like I was pickled in
a specimen jar. The gloomy, almost Dickensian oppression of the uniform shop
felt worse than the blazer.
“All blazers look big at first madam, “the
exasperated shop assistant half smiled. “Who knows the chubby little chap might
sprout up and grow into it.”
“Umm, “the Old Girl mumbled.
“Eventually.”
“Umm,” the Old Girl reiterated.
“On the bright side, it could always be
altered madam, the arms taken up, and the length likewise. “
“Do you do it? “
“No, we only do light alterations here, I’m
afraid this is far too big a job for us madam. “
“Umm. “
The Old Girl’s Umm’s could mean a lot
of things, none of them very good. That one meant it had been a long day of
uniform hunting and it was time to settle for what we‘ve got.
“Sod it, let’s get the poxy thing and let‘s
go. “
“Right you are madam, “ the exasperated shop assistant said, with a
look of great relief on his face. I could imagine him getting home that evening
and saying to his wife; “you’ll never guess what dear, I sold that really
big blazer today, break out the sherry! “
Later that night, I stood in front of the
Old Man in my new swamping, out sized, school uniform.
’Kin hell he looks like the Incredible
Shrinking Man, “he said, staring at me, then shaking his head. “Someone’s got their ‘kin work cut out
gettin’ that to fit. “
There I was, a little fat eleven year old,
about to take the biggest leap forward, of my life so far, and I couldn’t have
been more ill prepared.
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