The following little tale from ‘Depot Street Memories…The Lawler Stories’ has always been one of the best-received when I’ve done readings at libraries, retirement centers, schools, or service clubs. MAYBE it’s time for me to forgive him. You can help me decide on that.
My Fashion Whiteout Moment
I must have been a freshman or sophomore in high school at the time. Stepping out onto our front porch, I felt as though GQ Magazine would be looking at me for their next cover photo. For some strange reason I felt quite dapper as I looked into the mirror before going outside to impress the world—well at least my buddies down at Martin’s Café—with my outstanding wardrobe.
I had on a white shirt, white pants, a white belt, and (you guessed it) white-buck shoes. My biggest concern was how to fight off all the girls who would be clamoring to get at me.
But the dream was short-lived when my dear neighbor and friend—Joe Scally—self-appointed chief of the Lawler Fashion Police happened to be in his front yard.
“Sheridan. Get over here. I want to check this out.”
I was delighted that Mr. Scally was about to compliment me on my attire; and perhaps even ask me where the ensemble was purchased so that he could run right out and copy my excellent choice of clothing . Frankly, I was totally unprepared for the next thing that came out of his mouth.
“That’s cool. I didn’t know that you got a job at the creamery!” (After which he doubled up in laughter.)
Instantly the whiteness from my neck to my toes was offset by the embarrassing redness in my face as I turned around and hurried into my house before another soul on the planet saw me. While slamming the front door I could hear the sound of Fashion Chief Scally howling with laughter in the background.
To this very day (50 + years after the fact), I’m not entirely sure whether to thank Lawler’s favorite banker profusely or punch him in the nose.
Bill Sheridan: www.sheridanwrites.com