Can I have your shirt?

No, I’m not being sarcastic. I really like that shirt. Can I borrow it? Can I keep it? Can you give it to me right now? I love it. I wish that you had bought two when you bought it for yourself. I wish that you bought eight, and that way you could give me seven of them, one for every day of the week. If only I could open my closet and see a whole wardrobe, just of that shirt, over and over and over again, man, my life would be set. Because I really love that shirt. And I’m not being sarcastic. Seriously, can I have it? I want to take it to a tailor. I want to take it to China and have them set up a whole factory dedicated to mass producing that shirt, thousands of copies, but only for me, just in my size. That way I’ll get to wear a brand new shirt every single day, and then I can just throw it out. Maybe I’ll wear two every day, like if I go running midday, I’ll take a shower after I get back from my run, and I’ll wear a brand new one for the afternoon. Scratch that, that’ll be three a day, because if I have that many shirts, of course I’m going to wear one while I’m working out. I told you how much I love the shirt, right? And now that I’m thinking about it, it’s actually four shirts a day, because I’ll want to wear one in the shower. And you know what? Make it a lot more shirts, because instead of pants, I’m thinking that I’m just going to wrap one shirt around each leg, and then another shirt around my waist. Well, maybe I can just have my Chinese garment factory use the same shirt material to make pants … no. No, then it wouldn’t be that shirt. It would be something else. It would be pants.

Of course I’m not being sarcastic. Haven’t I made it clear enough already how much I absolutely love that shirt? I’m obsessed with it. In fact, I don’t think it would be fair to mass-market that shirt, even if it were only for me. Because all of those shirts wouldn’t be that shirt, that very shirt that you’re wearing right now. I think that it’s something not about the style, not about the make or material, but there’s something special about that specific shirt. Like even if you bought two like I had mentioned earlier, or eight, the other ones wouldn’t do it for me in the same way that that shirt is doing it for me. Can you please take it off right now and hand it over to me? I’m begging you, sincerely. Although, if I were in your position, I would understand exactly what you’re going through. People must come up to you all the time, pleading with you, demanding to have the shirt. I wouldn’t give it up. But I can’t stop asking. Just please give it to me.

I’ll never take it off. I’m really serious here. I’d just leave it on for the rest of my life. Sure, it would get dirty, and start to fall apart, holes and stains and everything. But that would just add extra layers to its uniqueness. It would grow old with me. And finally, someday, I’d be laid down to rest with the shirt still on, threadbare by that point, maybe it would be so faded and torn that I’d have to tie it together at certain spots to keep it from sliding off of my body. Spending my whole life in that shirt would have had obvious consequences on my professional and social life. Nobody would want to live with me, because they’d be too jealous of the shirt, and I wouldn’t be able to live with anybody either, because I’d be too worried that they’d wait until I fall asleep to steal the shirt and take off in the middle of the night. And holding down a job would be impossible, because you’re supposed to wear nice clothes to work, like a suit and tie. And then obviously everybody at work would be jealous of the shirt also.

And so, please, don’t make me beg any more, just give me the shirt. Let me live my life in your shirt. Let me be buried with that shirt. I’ll need to be buried in concrete, obviously, deep down in a really state of the art high-security mausoleum, because as soon as I die everybody’s going to be thinking that they can just grave rob me. I won’t let it happen. I want to be in that shirt for all of eternity.

What? I’m serious! No I’m not being sarcastic. You pick out the best shirts, what can I say? And look at those sneakers. Wow! What a great pair of kicks. Can I have them? Those are the coolest sneakers I’ve ever seen in my life. I’ll trade you my car for just one of them, just the left one. Come on, I’m totally serious. I’m not being sarcastic at all. I just … I just love your sense of style.

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