I was gardening a couple of days ago and figured I didn't have to go anywhere so I went looking for my rattiest clothes to wear. I discovered an oversized pair of jeans I have never seen before that were falling apart. They might have been a mix-up from work because I found them in a footlocker. They were too long so I rolled up the cuffs and too big at the waist. I decided to put suspenders on them to hold them up but saw a long bungee cord and diagonally clipped the ends to belt loops.
Underneath the bungee cord was a paint covered T-shirt that looked like it had been in a battery acid fight. Worn out Topsiders completed the outfit.
The gardening was rolling along when the wife called me and asked me to pick something up at the local market. I probably should have gone in and changed but I didn't. I figured it would be a fast in and out trip.
Bam! Off to market. Item in hand. In line.
A mother and son team slip behind me and I overheard the mother quietly comment about the homeless man in front of them. (Me)
Actually I took no offense because I knew I looked like hell but I was feeling a little evil. I turned around.
"Ma'am," I said calmly, "I own my home free and clear. I'm not homeless. I don't hold it against you in any way for not being able to recognize the Old School working uniform of a United States Merchant Marine officer. Most people don't."
She looked confused, embarrassed and said nothing. The woman behind the register I have know for years had seen and heard everything. She addressed me with, "I see you're enjoying your retirement, Captain."
More confusion on her part. I paid for my item and left.
Since retirement I've stayed in touch with some of the guys and we've discussed a lot of things that happened over the years. For most of my career, like most everyone out there, I shopped for work clothes at rummage sales, Goodwill and other high end establishments for work uniforms.
For a while I had a shopper named Bag Lady Sue that would dive the Goodwill dumpster where they tossed unsellable clothing. She'd get your size and set you up with about 2/3s of a USGI duffel bag's worth of clothes for about $10. Sue was pretty good and never sold woman's jeans to us because she knew they were like a cheap hotel. (No ballroom)
Of course much of this changed during the last decade or so of my career when the company issued company coveralls and ordered us to wear them if we were in a position to be seen by customers. Still, a lot of us old timers recall looking like homeless bums when we went to sea.
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