Walking around Thane

Today I went out to purchase my suit for the prom. Actually it is for the second day of Visions, when we are expected to present ourselves in a bloody formal outfit. The dress codes for the three days are: day 1: hip-hop, Day 2: formals, and day 3: Visions tees and jeans.
I entered the shop, selected my suit. I am rather thin. Actually I am a fucking malnourished anorexic bag of bones, but it lends you more dignity to admit that you are only rather thin. So one shop basically drove me away saying they did not stock any suits my size. The next shop, however, had readymade suits that perfectly suited me. The suit in fact fit me so perfectly that I felt that it was almost tailored for me. Then found out the trick that the clever bastards had up their sleeves (literally) so that the suits would suit almost anyone. They had put padding up the sleeves (told you it was literal) which sort of gives you artificial shoulders. OBviously you don't know what I mean, so I will bother to explain further because it is a really neat trick. If you have shoulders too narrow for the suit, projections like the things rugby players wear jut out from your shoulders giving them the appearance of broadness, as well as the feeling that the suit was tailor made for you.
I had to however, order the pants. I walked out with an OK tie and a stupid shirt, and noticed on my way out that I had purchased the suit the mannequin on the window was wearing. First time for me.
Was half nostalgic on the way back from the shop. I used to hang around this place for the one year I was in coaching classes in Thane. I passed the Ganpati temple (Ganesha being the lord of education) from which I had once stolen a hibiscus flower to dissect because I hadn't gotten one from home as instructed. There was the eternal Bata showroom from where I have purchased almost every single one of my shoes over almost eight years. Then there was the popcorn fellow who had managed to make masala and salted mix my staple diet.
With staple diets like that, no wonder I was driven away from a shop for being... er... hey politically correct term for people like me - laterally challenged.