By William Crooks
Is it normal that I don’t know my suit jacket measurements? The exact width of my shoulders? My chest circumference at the level of the nipple? I bought two new jackets online and they just arrived yesterday. One fits well, the other would have fit me at the age of fourteen. I could return it, I guess, but maybe someone else could use it. As a man, there is a (possibly irresolvable) tension between not caring too much about how you look and being ignorant of the basics to being socially presentable…
On through Ascot Corner, skirting East Angus and a left turn into Marbleton to meet some Good Eggs for breakfast at Restaurant des Cantons. I arrived first and took in the scenery. Across the road from the restaurant looms a dense, green, mostly deciduous forest. Behind me I could hear a loudly babbling brook (engorged by the recent rainfall), but, turning to get a look, its beauty was obscured by thick summer foliage and shrubbery. I wasn’t in the mood, nor was I dressed or equipped, to go bushwhacking.
The restaurant boasts a roofed terrasse, however when the other two Good Eggs I was to eat with arrived, we decided to eat inside; it is a smallish room that has place for 30 at the most. The interior was described by one of us as, “classy in context,” by which I think she meant it was classy relative to its surroundings and other restaurants of the same nature. Short, red curtains adorn the windows and the room’s walls and supporting pillars are trimmed with wood.
