Neckties; Or, Adventures in Vasoconstriction, Part I

Optimistically anticipating future job interviews, I purchased a tie: a cheap, boring, polyester thing that cost no more than five dollars. Informal twentysomething that I am, I had to consult YouTube instructional videos in order to learn how to tie a proper knot. The following video was not much help:

Even after finding a more informative, vegan-friendly video, it took me many more times to wrap my head – and my neck – around the four-in-hand knot. As a result, my cheap, polyester tie ended-up sporting more creases and folds than Kelsey Grammar’s big, bald forehead. I thought it might be a good idea to steam the wrinkles smooth by placing the tie on a pot of boiling water. I was wrong. Within minutes, the parts of the tie resting on the pot’s edge were burned-through with black-brown holes, and worse: those damned creases were still there.

I bought a second, dark blue tie, only to belatedly discover that dark blue ties look terrible against white shirts and black slacks. My roommate offered use of his spare, red tie; however, that tag on the back which tucks in the narrow end of the tie was falling off. I asked my roommate if he had glue. He did not, but generously provided Scotch tape instead.

My shirt barely boasted a collar large enough to facilitate the size of my neck, which until very recently, I assumed was quite slim. It closed so tightly around my neck that I could feel its pressure on my pulsing carotid arteries. One large gulp would have probably launched the button fastening my collar far into the stratosphere.

Thus, I dressed for my first interview since arriving in Brooklyn, wearing a tie held together with tape; donning the black, white and red colors of both the German Imperial Flag and many a racist joke.