I had some pairs of clothes I was gifted that I hadn't been able to wear due to the fact that they were oversized and there was no chance for me to take them to a tailor for amendment. There were two pairs of trousers and three button-down long sleeves, which were perfect for my kind of dress style for Sunday church.
On a Saturday morning while arranging for work, I had a prompt to take them to a tailor so I could use one of them for Sunday wear the next day. I followed the prompt and dropped the clothes off with the tailor, telling him I would collect them when I retuning from work.
"Okay, but make sure you come by 8:00 p.m. because I'll be closing by 8 p.m. on the dot," the tailor said as he received the clothes. I paid him via bank transfer, and I left.
I got to work, and the schedule took on a new dimension. I got transferred to a branch out of the city to cover up some lapses had me spent more than my usual hours.
On my way back, my phone rang, and it was tailor. I quickly checked the time, and it was 8:05 p.m. already. "Oga, please don't close yet, give me less than 10 minutes, and I will get there." I pleaded as soon as I answered the call because I already knew why he was calling.
"Did you say 10 minutes? I told you I'd be leaving by 8:00 p.m., just take a look at the time now, it's 8:06 p.m. already." The tailor replied and hung up. I knew I had screwed up already. I just kept calm because there was nothing I could do. I can't fly.
I got there by 8:48 p.m.; he was sitting on a table outside his shop, his face beaming with anger. I just had to be polite and explain why it took me so long to come.
He handed me a black nylon bag containing the well-treated clothes, I thanked him, and left.
I got home very tired, had breakfast, took a shower, and entered dreamland. I could not test the clothes.
The next day, I woke up by 7:30 a.m. to prepare for church, which is to kick off at 8:00 a.m.
I had a quick shower and rubbed off the water on my body with the tower.
I went to where I kept the nylon last night before I slept, picked it up, opened it, and brought out the well-ironed cloth. The look captivated my mind, and I smiled because I knew I was going to look smart in church wearing the clothes.
I unbuttoned the trouser, put my two legs together, dragged it to my waist, and zipped off. "What's this?" I muttered as I saw that the trouser was still oversized. It was as if I wasn't seeing clearly, so I walked to the mirror to see myself, and I saw it clearly, it was almost exactly the way I gave it to the tailor.
Disappointment filled my mind. I pulled it off, collected the other one, and wore it. I checked myself in the mirror, and I saw a reflection of me in an old school dress.
I angrily pulled it off and flung it on the bed.
"The shirts should be better," I muttered as I stretched to the nylon and collected one of the shirts, I unbottoned, and put it on and saw it was oversized too.
"So this man didn't do anything to these clothes. What kind of rubbish is this?" Anger was already all over my face, and I could see how my face was squeezed through the mirror.
I tested the remaining two, and they were the same.
Hissing became a habit for me at intervals of one second.
With disappointment and frustration, I picked up my phone to see that it was 8:00 a.m. already
What should I do?
Should I get another outfit from the wardrobe and wear it?
Or should I just stay back because time has gone by?
These questions buzzed my mind, and I stood on a spot with my singlet and boxer, thinking about the option to pick.
Finally, I settled for picking another outfit, and yes, I dressed up in a jiffy and off I went.