Monkey Suit

Posted: August 9, 2013 by writingsprint in Drama
Tags: , , , ,

Monkey SuitJohn tugged at his collar. Either he’d put on weight, his shirt had shrunk, or the laundry elves were messing with his shirt again. “I hate wearing this monkey suit.”

“Why do they call it a monkey suit?” his brother George asked. “Hold still. I can’t fix this hem if you keep moving.”

“I think it had to do with organ grinders. Their monkeys wore outfits that looked like tuxedos.” John put on his jacket. He snapped his arms out twice. He couldn’t get used to the feel of the coat.

“Hold the hell still or I’m going to stick you with this needle. How did you hear about the organ grinders.”

“You pick up stuff like that when you study language history.”

“Everyone needs a hobby. Well, Mr. Historian, you’re lucky my wife taught me to sew. You’d look like crap going into your first day with your left leg dragging down to your ankle.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” John checked the cuff of his leg. Perfect. Now his tie felt funny. “Business casual was the rule in my old job. Now I’m going to have to wear this thing every day.”

“Poor baby, six figures and all.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see if it’s worth it. The last guy who had this job flew from Los Angeles to Chicago to New York – Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday – every week for three months while they were going through a merger. And that’s with a legal staff backing him up.”

“That guy recommended you for the job.”

“He was happy to retire, too.” John checked himself in the mirror. Jacket, shirt, pants. Watch. No other jewelry.

“Are you sure you don’t want the vest?”

“If you try to wrap me in that thing one more time I’m going to deck you.”

“It’s not complete without it.”

“I haven’t worn a vest with a suit at anything other than a wedding.”

“You also haven’t sat with the board of directors before.”

Another layer. It might as well have all been chained together and colored orange. “Give it to me.” So the jacket came off, the vest went on, and now he had to get comfortable wearing undershirt, shirt, tie, tie clip, vest, and jacket. “I’m buried under this stuff. Can you imagine if I had this many layers of pants?’

“Yup. You’d never be able to pee.” George folded his arms. He looked his brother from the top of his head to the bottom of his shoes. “Well, John, you look like a million bucks. That makes you the best-paid prisoner in the world.”

This post is brought to you by the prompt “Silk Prison” from Inspiration Monday at Be Kind Rewrite.

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Comments
  1. Stephanie says:

    Love the brotherly banter! This is a fun piece that makes me grateful for my job, where we can wear jeans and bring our dogs on Fridays. : )

    Like

    • writingsprint says:

      Thanks! I was going for banter. I used to volunteer at an animal shelter where people could bring in their dogs. Great crowd :-).

      Like

  2. elmowrites says:

    What a cute snippet. I love how you build this together so it feels like much more than an elaborate run up to the punchline at the end.

    Like

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