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Is This a Date?

LAYTON

Getting dressed for dinner with Marissa was more nerve racking than it should have been. I stood in front of my closet, staring at rows of neatly hung suits. They were ordered by how recently I’d worn them, and by color, though they were only gray and black.

I liked rotating them, making sure none got more wear than any other. Once they started looking worn, I replaced them. I couldn’t stand the thought of a frayed or discolored collar.

The rotation also made it simpler for me to get dressed every morning. I never had to decide on what to wear, the next option was already ready for me. Right there, hanging on the opposite side from where the freshly laundered ones were.

Suits hung on one side of my walk-in closet, shirts on the other. There was a little more choice for color on the shirt rail, but not by much.

All of these things meant dressing for dinner should have been a no brainer, but it wasn’t. Shrugging out of a white button up shirt, I hung it back up and opted for a bl
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