not the right fit, so you are now throwing a fit (well, sort of).

A colleague is getting married next June; you are helping him coordinate wedding attire. He has selected fabric for a made-to-measure suit, now it is onto choices of shirt and tie.

We met in the Buona Vista area, as he wanted to visit a tailor he came across at #03-21 of Holland Village Shopping Centre. Okay, let's do so -- you, too, were interested in seeing what shirt fabrics they stocked.

Both of you went there decked out in sports T-shirts and three-quarter length pants. You were also carrying your racket bag cos you had a coaching session earlier.

You began by telling the tailor and his wife you were there to browse shirt fabrics. He took out collections of fabrics, and asked us if we had particular designs in mind. You did not, while your colleague wanted to tailor a white shirt, if he saw a weaving pattern he liked.

You would not say that the tailor gave you a good first impression. He looked quite unenthusiastic, bored, and well, neither friendly nor welcoming.

Then three tourists -- a gentleman and two ladies -- walked in. The guy wanted to tailor a jacket. The tailor proceeded to talk, joke, and laugh with them, asking them how they heard of him, were they here upon a customer's recommendation, blah blah blah. Hmm.

You finally spotted a lilac colour fabric with a weaving pattern you liked. You asked for a price quote. "$75," he said. "Very reasonable," you thought to yourself.

But you wanted to have the shirt made in mid-Jan, so you asked the tailor if he would give you his business card, on which you will write down the fabric number.

"We would not want you to do that," he said, taking you somewhat by surprise. Okay, well, you kinda understood that he was concerned you would note down the fabric number and have the shirt made elsewhere. But hey, come on, you wanted to take down the fabric number because you did want to have the shirt made at his shop, just not so soon.

"We will write down the fabric number for you," he then said. His wife takes out a piece of scrap paper, jots down the number, but without asking for your name. Oh, and you never did receive the business card you wanted.

You started to feel quite disappointed.

At that moment, you could not help but glance at the fabric again. Fine, you were sorry you did that. Or should you not have been sorry at all?

Because, to your astonishment, the tailor mumbled something to his wife, and she quickly closed the fabric book. Wow. Top secret.

You walked out of the shop immediately. You are not going back there again for anything.

That, really, please, is not how you wanted to be treated.