I hate rental tuxes, and I'm not that big on weddings. Actually, I hate anything resembling formal attire, but rental tuxes are the worst. Weddings have enough crap without rental tuxes.

My brother got married this weekend.* So I try on the tux at noon. For a 5 pm wedding. Why you ask? Because the damn photographer needed to spend the afternoon taking pictures of everything else (presumably 4 hours of bridal make-up application), so my brothers and I were obligated to get into tuxes in 90 degree heat 5 hours in advance so we could have our pictures taken pretending to get each other ready and pretending to walk to the site together. I thought a practice haircut between practice tux wearing and real tux wearing would have been wicked funny and present some nice continuity issues in the wedding book later, but if there's anything I hate more than rental tuxes, it's haircuts... and the dentist (but that's neither here nor there). Instead, I settled for buying a new undershirt to replace the one I soaked through practicing wearing a tux.

First thing I notice when trying on the outfit at noon (for a 5pm wedding no less) is that the pants pockets had giant holes on the sides of them to allow for their completely useless resizeable buckle thingies. This created an unfortunate level of risk as I was tasked with holding onto the rings, as I am a serial pocket user, and the sealed up pockets left me with litte alternative. Not that it wasn't fun torturing brother with the idea that I lost his wife to be's ring (it WAS!), but still, if I HAD lost it that woulda sucked, and I don't think anyone would have sympathized with the "Men's Wearhouse's" sucks excuse even though they clearly do.

Anyway, back to the buckles. Seems to me that buckles on pants exist in case I got 4-8 inches fatter in the 2 weeks between trying the sample pants on and the wedding... or (more likely) so the toolbags at MW can cover their own portly posteriors by making their damn hole-ridden pants one-size-fits-all since they invariably can't remember to get the size right more than 50% of the time. The left side buckle of course, was broken. So I spent the day holding my pants up and trying to remember not to use the pockets. Argh.

*Brother, if you read this, which you won't, but just in case, you should know I had a lovely time and I'm very proud of you. Just don't ever make me wear a rental tux again. Let alone twice in one day.