Michael D. Davis.

So, I was walking into Monday’s council meeting, and I saw a guy I know rocking a ridonculous shirt. I caught up with him and complimented his shirt, and we then talked about shirts, and somewhere along the way, he called me sexy.

This was both an odd and delightful accolade that I’d never received before. But I was wearing a new shirt, so I should have been expecting it.

You see, when you weigh the same as a mid-size sedan like I do, clothing will be a problem for you, shirts especially. I am fat, but I am also short.

This is something that no clothing retailer has ever seemed to grasp. They seem to assume that if you’re as fat as I am, you must also be around nine feet tall. So many times I’ve gotten a shirt where you could push a bookcase through the head hole, and where the hem comes to my knees.

At the beginning of my high school years, I found a solution to the head hole problem because I am not one to go around with a large amount of my chest exposed. In high school that would have brought way too many cleavage jokes.

So, thankfully I’ve always wanted to dress like Dean Martin or Mr. Pink from Reservoir Dogs. A suit itself was out of the question, but I found my fix in what is called a dickie. I fashioned a range of false collars, wore them under my shirts, as I do to this day, and started wearing ties. Yes, I wore a tie to high school, I just had that much style.

When It comes to my t-shirts, I’ve always had to order them from specialty catalogs or specific websites, and they’ve never had what I wanted. Most of the designs were generic sayings like “Grillmaster” or “I stopped playing video games for this?”

One, I’m not a father of four who is way into grilling meat on the weekends, Two, I never play video games. I found that to get my style of shirts from these places, I had to hit the Halloween sales — Jack o’ lanterns, skulls, Dracula, skulls, Green Lantern, more generic skulls, it was the best I could do.

Then, through some divine power, a few months ago I found a website that both has my size and some wicked designs. As if it couldn’t get better, the shirts actually fit. They don’t go down to my ankles, and they don’t have a head hole the size of the Grand Canyon, it’s a miracle.

I’ve bought about six shirts from them so far, and I’m going to get more. My favorite so far, I think, is the one with Michael Myers talking on the phone, bleeding out of his eye sockets like in Halloween 2, and he says on the phone, “I can’t believe she shot me in the eyes!” I find that hilarious.

I think for regularly shaped people, getting a T-shirt is taken for granted. You can walk into almost any store and wear something right off the rack. I just turned 28 years old, and I have never been able to do that. I’ve always been “husky,” as some brands call it.

So, on Monday, as I was walking into that council meeting, I was wearing one of my new shirts, it said HORROR WRITER on it and had a skeleton’s hand coming up. Wearing that new awesome fitting shirt made me feel good.

No, as a dude who wore an awesome shirt of his own on Monday would say, it made me feel sexy.