WASHINGTON — Local indecisive man Ed Treston spent 45 minutes on Friday night selecting a t-shirt that will never be seen once covered by his favorite flannel shirt, sources who waited patiently in the corner of the room confirmed.
“It’s really become quite a process these days. I have two dressers, most of which are filled with t-shirts. I try on at least a dozen before going with one that I will ultimately second guess all night,” Treston said while shirtless. “It’s a real tricky one tonight, the club I’m heading to is pretty hardcore so it’s not just about picking the right undershirt, it’s about picking an ethos. The gatekeepers don’t fuck around at this place, and they will ask you for album details in a second. I don’t even know how they can tell I’m wearing a band shirt while only seeing 5% to 15% of the entire thing. It’s impressive.”
Treston’s girlfriend, Veronica Grey, is all too familiar with this ritual.
“Every time we go out it’s the same thing. He puts on an episode of ‘The Sopranos,’ gets a tumbler of whiskey, and just stands there staring at his drawer as if it’s a life or death decision. If I’m lucky, 30 minutes in he’s narrowed it down to about 25 shirts,” Grey continued, glaring at her watch while loudly tapping her foot. “He always asks me what I think. He’s got some classic shirts in there and he always looks good in them, but then that god damn wrinkled disgusting flannel comes off the floor and just ruins the whole outfit.”
Rick Spears, owner of Stoney Records, has been supplying Treston with shirts for years.
“I’ve sold him some of my best shirts over the years. An original ‘S&M Airlines,’ a classic ‘Nail in Your Head’ black tee, even a full color Cramps shirt,” Spears continued, a tear forming in his eye. “Not one of them has been seen by the general public since. They might as well have been burned up in a fire. I tell ya, it’s like a mother zebra watching its baby get snatched by a cheetah…hauled away, never to be seen again.”
At press time, Treston was seen taking another 45 minutes staring at an array of green military style jackets in his closet to wear over his flannel.