Two days later, on a Tuesday night, I have another wedding. This is my second wedding that I'm going as a friend of the parents, not of the bridal couple. I've never even met the bridal couple. I'm going to have to bring my suit/purse/head covering to work with me on Tuesday because the chuppah is at 6PM.
However, first I need to sew buttons on my suit because the last time I had it cleaned, one of them was broken. (Those of you who went to Contata might recognize it. I used nancybuttons to keep it closed, but that won't work at a wedding. Except a totally fannish one.) Jonathan happens to work not far from the trimming district in Manhattan.
He just called to tell me that I'd forgotten my lunch, which I hadn't. I just took a different lunch than he'd expected. Although I'd told him that already. Since he was there, I asked him to buy me buttons. 1 inch, navy blue, with shanks.
"Do you know what a shank is?"
"No."
"You know how some buttons have holes so you sew through the whole button, and others have holes sticking out the bottom? Those holes are shanks."
"Ah. Thank you. That's what I thought, but I needed to be sure."
"Yeah. I didn't want tiny Daniel Jacksons."
"Or little pieces of veal."
So, he's buying me buttons so I can go the wedding of complete strangers. Alone. Because he has a class that night and it really doesn't matter if he's there or not, given that we probably won't see each other anyway, and I'll know the other ladies and he might know a husband or two. No point in his going.