Headaches.

A man strides into a bar, grinning from ear to ear. He sets down at the bar and orders a beer. "In fact, make that a round on the house."

The bar cheers, and the bartender brings him his drink, he asks, "So, why the celebration?"

"I am reinventing myself! A new man! Just a month ago, I was miserable. But then..." He laughs. "Then my life changed! I had to put it all behind me. I always wanted to live in California, so I sold everything I had, broke my lease, and moved here. I got an apartment right over there across from the bar, and just today I landed my dream job." He drains half his beer, "Life is GREAT!"

The bartender stands back and beams, hands on his hips, sharing the man's joy, "That's great man...y'know, most guys would not have the balls to pack up and leave like that."

At that, the man lets out a peal of laughter, spilling his beer and nearly falling off his stool. "And that's the kicker! I don't have ANY balls! None at all!" As you might expect, the bartender looked confused. The man leans over the bar. "You see, starting about 10 years ago, I started getting terrible headaches. I mean they were crippling, man. Couldn't sleep. Couldn't eat, Couldn't work...hell, sometimes I could barely walk. And they just kept getting worse. I finally found a doc that found the problem....turns out it was something with my balls, pressing into the base of my spine. The pressure was causing the headaches. I mean...it was a hard decision...but the headaches were ruining my life. I was damn near suicidal. So...well...off they came. And now I'm completely reinventing myself. Next step, get a new wardrobe." He holds up his glass in a toast and drains it, waggling for another as he swallows.

The bartender's jaw has dropped. "That...that's incredible." He turns to fill the glass and looks up as the beer pours in. "Hey...y'know... I think I can set you up." he looks up over the bar and scans around. He quickly sees who he's looking for. "Barry! Hey Barry, get over here...this man needs a new suit." He looks back to the new customer. "This guy's amazing, totally old school. Can size a guy just by looking at him. Makes all of his suits himself, and I'll get him to cut you a deal."

Up walks a thin, bespectacled, immaculately dressed elderly man. He approaches the bar, "Yes?", he says in a clipped voice.

"Got a customer for ya, Barry. Treat him nice, he's been through a lot."

"Ah! You are wanting a new suit?" He looks the man up and down. He pulls his spectacles down on his nose. "A...reinvention of yourself?"

Then man beams, "Yes! Exactly! new job, new city, new friends...and now I need a new suit."

"Hmmm...collar is 15, yes?"

"Yes! Exactly!"

"42 long jacket feels to long, 42 feels too short, yes?"

"Yes! Exactly!"

"I will cut it custom for you. Tall and slender...waist 32..inseam 34..."

"Ah...you got the waist right, but I'm a 32 inseam. Always have been."

Barry waves his hand dismissively and continues his examination. "No...no..you are are a 34 inseam. 32 is too short. A 32 would push your balls right up into your spine. Give you one hell of a headache."