Okay, this could get interesting...
Last night at dinner, my son Hayes pointed out that I had a phone number written on my jeans. This defacement came courtesy of Levi's, and was one of many (including buckshot holes, swirling tears, tattoo-like inking and a red tartan back pocket) on an extremely customized pair of jeans I bought from their flagship store in San Francisco.
Lemme just say that I love Levi's. Here's where I sound like that movie trailer guy:
"In a world of $300-plus designer denimeisters, Levi's put out an under-rated, superbly-priced and most importantly, perfectly-fitting product."
That's why I have eight pairs of 'em.
This pair, I've had for about a year. You can't help but notice the phone number (it's on the upper right quad), but I assumed that it was the number to the S.F. store, and left it at that. Frankly, compared to the rest of the action taking place all over both legs, it was kinda overshadowed.
But last night, sparked by Hayes' inquisitiveness, I called it.
Are you ready for this? The number led to what purports to be a Levi's Concierge Service, and perhaps because of the time of day and week (Sunday eve at about 8:00 p.m. eastern), it played a cheerful recorded message inviting me and three guests to a champagne-fueled, one-hour shopping experience...ON THEM! The message asked me for my name, a contact number, the names of my guests, and the city in which I want to enjoy this experience.
So, the curiosity is severely piqued. The Surprise meter is warming up, humming in anticipation.
Is this one of those stories I'll tell forever? A hoax? A true find or a crushing disappointment?
To be continued...