Shipmates,
Well it’s here! The day when I finally reveal to all my sartorial woes! I know many have been waiting with bated breath for this long-delayed day,* and for the pain I have caused by my negligence, I can but bow obsequiously** and beg forgiveness. Mea culpa friends! Mea culpa.
Although, while I firmly and without qualm stand before you—the very paradigm of manliness—and take full and unconditional responsibility for my sins, my hesitation to write about the matter of my raiment aboard the Pequod is not really my fault. You see, when first I proudly stalked across the gangplank, a salty sea ditty upon my lips, I was told by my superiors*** to first wear one outfit only to be told weeks later to wear another! And so it went. Here is a brief transcript of the actual first conversation I had with the CD and EM**** about said outfit:
The Dread Pirate Dewey: Good sirs! I come aboard the mighty Pequod ready to serve as your ever-so- humble librarian! But sirs, know this, the seas have carried The Dread Pirate Dewey to the farthest reaches of this strange world and in my travels I have taken the opportunity to mark my flesh! Yea, my very arms are living art! But are the patrons to whom I shall serve accustomed to such beauty and wonder or shall I wear long-sleeved tunic?
EM and CD in chorus: Oh manly Dewey! Take no fear; wear the short-sleeved tunic! For who could look upon your chiseled visage and second guess your artistic choices?
It turns out 1300 ancient republicans could and did. A short week later I had the following conversation with the CD:
CD: Soooooo, we’re gonna have to go ahead and, uh, get you some of those long-sleeved white shirts.
TDPD: But good sir! I already have the raiment of which you speak!
CD: Oh is that right? Wellllll, I’m gonna have to go ahead and, uh, ask you to, oh, start wearing them everyday.
TDPD: Why certainly good sir! I aim to please!
CD: It’s just that the hotel manager really wants you to, and, you know, my hands are, uh, pretty much tied.
Since this illuminating encounter with one of the more rascally CDs I’ve had the pleasure to be condescended to by, I have been asked—twice by our new CD—if I’ll start wearing the orange polo shirt again only to be told not to once my tattooed state is revealed. Now shipmates, to be honest, although I have been told that I look rather fetching in the nausea-inducing shade of orange that my Seattleite overlords have chosen, all induced nausea aside, I have to say that I prefer the white long-sleeved shirt. For what, I ask of you, fair readers, best befits the lofty and respectable position of shipboard librarian best: the silly overly-Dutch polo or the staid, dignified white? I let you be the judge.
 |
| Behold the glory that is orange! |
 |
| The Dread Pirate Dewey hard at work in those early days of yore. |
 |
| My evening wear; much the same now as in those early weeks. Note the orange! |
 |
| The Dread Pirate Dewey even cleans! |
 |
| The Dread Pirate Dewey signing out a book (about pirates natch) to The Equally Dread Piratess Dewette! |
*Including a certain unnamed professor from a certain unnamed university whose insistence upon me writing about these matters I can only attribute to her anticipation of seeing me swathed in orange. I suspect that she—having been frustrated in her own youthful desires to join the piratical ranks due to her unfortunate byclopean nature—is living vicariously through your humble narrator.
**Virtually that is, which, in all honesty, amounts to very little effort.
***In official rank only, rest assured.
****Cruise Director and Event Manager you landlubbers.
No comments:
Post a Comment