I was in college again. The new semester was about to start and I needed to have new uniforms made so I was at the tailor's shop. The seamstress was one of my godmothers. I was telling her that she didn't need to make new measurements for the collared shirts but she insisted. She took my measurements with a tape measure and wrote them down in a notebook with a pencil. Halfway through the process she discovered that I was right. "Well, will you look at that," she said, showing me the numbers. They were, indeed, the same as the last time.    

One of her assistants came into the room to watch us/me with more than mild interest. And then another one came in. It was -, one of the twins in high school. I wanted to ask him if he was married now but I didn't think it would be polite.