Lozareth says something formal. Fine, I’ll wear a suit like she suggested to me. A one-hundred-and-five dollar suit.
[DOUBLE EDIT: The suit was hired. That’s why it was a waste of money. I just realised I hadn’t made that clear earlier.]
After much panicking, and dialectic cross-examination later, we come to the middle ground of semi-formal. And that’s not a two piece suit with a matching waistcoat, tie and hankerchief.
I suppose that last week when all the St Brigids girls were getting excited about their ball gowns for next year, I may have gotten inspired myself, or confused the cruise (because Georgie made something of a show before choosing her dress). You know? This is worst than seeing Georgie at the city when she was withdrawing money, and elated to see me too, forgetting to collect the $40 from the slot.
*sigh* I spent a great deal of time swearing over the past twenty minutes. Okay, so I wasted a hundred bucks. A hundred bucks I had been saving for weeks to buy that set of katanas down at Kenwick Village. I’ll just take it that this is God’s way of saying I’m not meant to be purchasing sharp shiny things, because I’d be a little less-than-responsible with them. By that I mean, I would actually train with them (scabbard and all) rather than leave them on my shelf. Moving back to the topic, what am I going to do with this fricking suit? Fuck.