Monday, May 11, 2015

Inspected by # 17

I will admit that it has been a while since I have bought any decent clothes but even so it has been a while since I have seen one of those slips of paper they used to put in shirt pockets. They used to say 'Inspected by # whatever'.

Do they do that anymore?

It sort of used to be part of the fun of buying a shirt.

You'd get the shirt home and then a couple of people would try and guess the number of the inspector before you pulled the little slip out of the pocket.

I remember in Alaska we had a pretty good conversation about this over beers at the Anchor Bar one day.

There were all sorts of conjectures over who #17 was or even if the shirt had actually been inspected. 

When you get six or eight fishermen together opining about just anything the ideas are going to flow. Add some beers and the ideas increase exponentially.


Now that I think about it, the more inane something is the more fishermen are going to dig into their rum soaked twisted little minds to figure it out.

I remember the discussion and hilarity that went along with it lasted for hours.

Of course, when it was all said and done, nobody really had a clue as to who #17 was or even if they ever really inspected the shirt at all.  

I haven't seen one of those little slips in years.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

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