Paul loves fezzes. He loves fezzes a lot.
He’s a fez evangelist.
“You’d look good in a fez,” he says to me.
He carries a tape measure with him. There’s a spare tape measure in his jacket, in case he breaks or loses the first one.
The bookmark for a fez shop is one of his home row icons.
He taps my phone, and now I’ve got the site up.
“Go ahead.”
I enter my credit card, and in 3 days I will have a fez.
Unless I hit the cancel button.
I wait until Paul’s gone to do that.