Back in February, I tried on a shirt at the Urban Outfitters in FiDi. It felt as though I was being hugged by the luscious, soft jersey knit fabric–at first, I dared not dream of taking it off. Yet I awoke to the reality of the price–around $45-50, a lot of money for a meezly little shirt. Additionally, it was snug–a little too snug. Usually mediums are foam fitting on me–but not this one. I needed a comfortable shirt, but refused to spend a lot on something I “wasn’t 100 with.” I put it back.
Flash forward two months later–April. On a quiet Thursday, I decide to go back. The weather is better, and I feel mightier, balanced, and reborn. Amazing how things as trivial as hair color impacts us, isn’t it?
I returned to Urban Outfitters and did something I, as a New Yorker, never usually do–I spoke with a person on the floor and asked for help. Now although I did not buy this shirt, I kept a close eye on it for a month. After I gave up, I was browsing for sales one day, and up it came–down to $29.99. I debated for about a week or so before deciding that this simply was an offer I couldn’t refuse. So on a quiet Thursday, I take an early lunch, and I go back. I’ve come prepared with a picture on my phone of the outfit online so the poor hipster I ask for help knows what I’m talking about.
“Oh yeah,” he responds. “Go up the stairs to the third floor, and you’ll find it in the corner in the sale area.”
I go upstairs, and turn into the sale area. I begin browsing the racks until I find the shirt. Before I arrived, I checked the reviews online one last time to make sure I didn’t fuck it up. One thing that all eight people agreed on–the shirt ran a size big. That meant that it’d be best to buy a small, which was a good thing–small and extra small were the only sizes that they had left. Another thing I noticed was that the price on my tag had again gone down–to $19.99.
To make sure that it was worth the buy, I tried it on one last time. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that it was also in a different color, but that was a good thing–it was million times more comfortable, form fitting, and just, well, me, then the last one had been, along I loved the way it looked and felt. After embarrassingly locking myself in the dressing room, and got out in the nick of time before the poor girl on duty went to check up. I thanked her, and went downstairs to pay.
February–Sized Medium, a bit big, overpriced
April–Sized Small after learning how the fit for the shirt works, perfect fit (and not too tight!), price is just right
The moral of the story is that the universe has perfect timing–just go with it. Whether it’s a stupid shirt, the love of your life, getting your license, going to school, buying a car, that iguana in Mexico that would dash around on the beach at the resort you stayed in seven years ago, or something else, let it go, and trust that all will work out in the right time. It might not be same guy–it could be an identical shirt or iguana–whatever. When your desire dawns on you again, have patience, and do your research. At last when the time is right, strike your match–and you’ll be amazed at how perfectly the flame takes, and know in your heart that waiting for the good and finally getting it was the best action to take.
The secret of getting things done is to act. Yet sometimes, doing nothing is when the flame ignites or something better crawls along.