My Adventure with Men’s Black Slacks
Alright, let’s talk about men’s black slacks. Sounds boring, I know. But stick with me, because my recent “practice” trying to sort this out went places I didn’t expect. You think it’s just about finding a pair that fits? Oh no, it’s way more than that, let me tell you.
So, I needed new black slacks for this job interview. A “serious” job, they called it. You know, the kind where you can’t just roll up in your comfy jeans. My old pair? They looked like they’d been through a war. So, the hunt began. I figured, how tough could it be? Famous last words, right?
I hit up this big department store first. Place was massive. They had a whole acre of slacks, it felt like. But everything was either “ultra-slim fit” – which on me looks like I’m trying to be a sausage – or “relaxed fit,” which made me look like I was wearing a potato sack. And the prices! Seriously, you’d think they were lined with gold. I tried to get some help from a sales assistant, but he just sort of waved in a general direction and mumbled. Not exactly helpful.
Then I thought, “Okay, online shopping!” What a disaster that turned out to be. The sizes are a complete lottery. One company’s “large” is another’s “small.” I ordered two pairs from different places. One arrived so tight I could barely zip it, the other was so big I could have probably fit a small dog in there with me. Sent them both back. What a waste of time.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I stumbled into a smaller shop, kind of tucked away in a corner of the mall. And there they were. Not perfect, mind you. The fabric felt a little on the thin side. But they were black, they actually fit without cutting off my circulation, and the price didn’t make my wallet weep. So, I grabbed them. The whole “practice” of just finding the darn things was exhausting enough.
But the real “practice,” the main event, was that interview. I turn up in my new, admittedly so-so black slacks, trying to look like I have my life together. The office was one of those super trendy, open-plan deals. All glass and weird modern art. The interviewer, a young chap who looked like he was fresh out of college, barely glanced at my CV. Instead, he started asking me these bizarre, off-the-wall questions. Like, “If you were a type of tree, what tree would you be?” A sturdy oak, mate, because I was already feeling weathered by this whole experience.
He didn’t ask a single thing about my actual skills or experience for the role I was there for! It was all this abstract personality quiz stuff. After about half an hour of this, he smiled politely and said, “Great, we’ll be in touch.” Yeah, right. I knew then and there I wasn’t getting that job. And you know what? I wasn’t even that mad. The whole process just felt… off.
- Finding the black slacks: A proper mission, full of frustration.
- The actual interview: Even more bizarre. A complete sideshow.
- What I figured out: Sometimes, the clothes are the easiest part. And some companies are just playing a different game altogether.
So, yeah, men’s black slacks. You need ’em for stuff, I guess. But my “practice” with them recently just reminded me that even when you think you’ve got the basics covered, life can throw some weird curveballs. I still have those slacks. Every time I pull them out, I think of that ridiculous interview. Maybe I’ll just save them for gardening. At least then, their mediocrity would be fitting.
