The Pink Shirt – a story

Posted: January 7, 2013 in Uncategorized

The pink shirt was lying in the store packaged with two other shirts – a blue one and a yellow one. It had been lying on the shelf for some time getting very lonesome. Dust started to gather on the package. Many men walked into the store buying shirts. They looked at this package, put it down and bought another one. The shirt was getting lonesome, feeling sorry for itself. “It must be the blue shirt that they don’t want. Why couldn’t I be packaged with a red one or a purple one instead?”

Just then a man walked in wearing a blue shirt. He took one look at the package and said, “Yuck! Pink! Men don’t wear pink.”

The pink shirt felt even more dejected. Then a big awkward man with a beautiful young wife walked in. The pink shirt took one look at them and said, “Ugh… he will never buy us.”

“We are looking for a special tie for our daughter’s wedding.” The lady said hopefully. The man said, “Look, honey, here is one that would match your suit perfectly.” She responded, “Yes and it’s a nice bright purple!”

However, the clerk took it away and handed him a red one, saying,”It might match but you will never wear that. This red one looks very beautiful on you. The man took it back and said, “No, I want this one! While I’m here, I might as well pick up a shirt or two.”

The pink shirt straightened itself out in the package and thought, “If this man is brave enough to wear a purple tie, maybe he’ll wear a pink shirt as well.”

The man walked over to the shelf and picked up the package and said to his wife, “I kind of like these.” Her response was, “But one of them is pink.” At that the pink shirt’s hope sank right to the floor.” But he said, “That’s the one I like … everybody will notice me.”

The pink shirt could hardly contain itself in the package. It was so happy that finally someone wanted it. Then the man picked up the package and took it to the sales counter. Right beside the pink shirt was the purple tie.

“Is he going to wear that purple tie together with me?” thought the pink shirt. “How handsome I would look.”

The first time the man wore the pink shirt was to the MCC Auction Sale. “MCC Auction,” thought the pink shirt, “I wonder what that is all about.”

It soon found out. It also found out the man’s name was John. “We went to a big building. Oh, was there ever noise and people!” And everyone seemed to know John and wanted to talk to him. All day long I hear. “Have you seen John?” “Yes, over there in the pink shirt.” Or, “Yes I saw him a while ago over there. Look for a pink shirt.”

The pink shirt was starting to feel very important. “Everyone could find John because he was wearing me – the pink shirt.”

At the end of the day the pink shirt was all tired out from looking so bright and cheery all day. After that the pink shirt was worn quite often – for wiener roasts, picnics, family gatherings. “Whenever something exciting was happening, John chose me, the pink shirt.”

Then the pink shirt was put in the closet. At first it was quite happy to have a rest for a change. But then it started to get bored.

On Halloween, John’s daughter, Marjorie, asked, “Dad, can I wear your pink shirt tonight?” “Yes, of course, ” John said, “What are you going to be?” “It’s a secret,” Marjorie replied with a twinkle in her eye. She played dress-up for a while with her friend Crystal. But the pink shirt did not twirl properly.

Some time later, John asked Marjorie, “You used my pink shirt at Halloween. Where did you put it?” “In the closet,” she replied innocently. “I already looked and didn’t see it. But I’ll look again.”

He went through all the clothes and in the farthest corner he found the pink shirt. When he saw it he noticed that long slits, like tails, had been cut into the bottom of the shirt. He could imagine how beautiful they would look on a young girl twirling. But it was no longer possible for him to wear, so it ended up in the rag-bag.

The story of this pink shirt happened about twenty years before it was popular for boys to wear pink as a sign of anti-bullying. For a change, I was ahead of the times.

Written by John Bergen.

More stories by this author will soon be found here:



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