I hate clothes shopping. Seriously.

As a child, I had nephritis, a kidney ailment, that entailed me taking steroids for an entire year. So between kindergarten and first grade I experienced some interesting weight issues. I don't remember all of the ends and outs of the whole deal. The only lasting memory I have of the whole affair is spending countless hours in the dressing rooms of the local Sears trying on husky clothes. Actually, it wasn't even trying on the clothes. It was more spending hours on end pulling pins out of neatly folded shirts with pieces of plastic, cardboard, and tissue paper stuffed in the oddest places. It was spending what seemed like hours taking my pants on and off (an image that would have appealed to me as a junior high student).

The upshot is that to this day, I hate going to get fitted for clothes. I would rather buy clothes and take them home, trying them on at my leisure and taking them back if they don't fit, but I know myself well enough to realize that I would never take them back and so that is a fool's errand. So I spend time trying on clothes. But only as often as I absolutely have to.

Today ended up being one of those days. I have put on a few pounds over the past few years and my suit no longer fits. I tell you this with no shame because I used to be 140 pounds soaking wet and six feet three inches tall. Over the years with the help of a wife who is an excellent cook and a slowing metabolism, I am now 6'3" and 190 lbs.

I have been asked to read at my cousin's wedding in a couple of weeks and need to be dressed in a better suit than I currently possess so I decided to spring for a new suit. I went to one of the smaller men's stores in our town which carries a fine selection of tasteful suits. I know the salesman by name (Ed) and we spoke for a few minutes before I tried on a charcoal grey suit. It fit pretty well and I made the obligatory trip to the dressing room to put on the dress pants to have them marked for hemming. I returned and am standing as he marked the pants when he said the words that reinforced my feelings about clothes shopping:

"Wow! One of your shoulders is a lot lower than the other."

WHAT? I have lived in this body for nearly forty years and have never had any real body issues. I have never thought I was too tall or too skinny. I have never given a damn if I wasn't all that handsome. Sure, I was a bit shocked to find that I was starting to bald on top a couple of years ago, but so be it. And now this suit salesman tells me that I have been walking around all of these years with one shoulder not level with the other!?

Did everybody know this? Was it common knowledge and I never put it together? Have people for years people been wandering around going "Here comes Habakkuk with his one lower shoulder. Poor guy."?

I now am somewhat afraid to look in the mirror. Will I start looking for other issues that I was never aware of. Are my eyes level or do I have one that is higher than the other. Is my nose crooked? Do I have one leg that is longer than the other? Am I just a complete freak, but an unobservant freak?

God, I hate going shopping!