Middle-Aged Man Questions Entire Identity After Purchasing His First Hawaiian Shirt

“I never thought this was the man I’d become,” noted a local Santa Clarita man, John Dwyer, after purchasing his first Hawaiian shirt.

“I had finally just finished laying down my new turf on my front lawn and my wife gave me the task of finding some matching pots to create the outdoor sanctuary she’d always wanted.”

One obligatory lone Saturday trip to the Home Goods section of TJ Maxx marks the death and rebirth of every middle-aged white man. Though for Dwyer, this was one existential change he never saw coming.

“While reluctantly sauntering my way to the back of the store, I saw it on the sale rack, shimmering bright between a nautical Ralph Lauren polo and a pair of cargo shorts. It was the most offensive Hawaiian shirt I’d ever seen, covered in flowers, palm fronds, and tiki skulls.”

“At a bargain of only $12, I knew this Hawaiian shirt had to be mine.”

“This was a dangerous game I was playing,” said Dwyer, knowing he had completely forgotten everything he had been tasked to purchase for his new work-from-home sanctuary. “However, the comfort of sliding my pasty white skin into pure, tropical luxury made my feelings of guilt slip away. Finally, I’d found a sense of fashion beyond my collection of Big Dog Ts and ironic grilling tank-tops.”

Dwyer said it was then he knew he had to roll down to the closest beach, Santa Monica, to show off his new digs.

“The scoffs from the groups of tan, hip 20-year-olds didn’t bother me. I knew they were envious of my newfound glory. I just ordered another rum punch and let the sunset slip away beneath my toes.”

It wasn’t until 20 rum punches later and an altercation with a lifeguard that authorities were forced to call Dwyer’s wife to come to pick him up.

A month later and Dwyer’s neighbors say they consistently see him lounging near the eighth hole of the local golf course with his cooler of  Mike’s Hard Lemonade.

“When he’s home, the smell of grilled pineapple fills up the entire cul-de-sac,” said one neighbor.

“It has become extremely difficult to work during the day with “Margaritaville” on repeat,” said another.

While we’ve reached out to Dwyer numerous times since the initial interview, it’s been difficult to find a time to sit down with him. According to Dwyer, it’s always “5 o’clock” somewhere.

However, we were able to sit down with Dwyer’s wife for a moment in her new outdoor sanctuary, which is now filled with tiki torches and multi-colored lights.

“My husband’s story is a cautionary tale for all middle-aged men,” said Dwyer’s wife. “While buying into the irony of colorful rayon button-downs might seem like a funny idea at first, it’s clear that it can devour your entire personality. All I wanted was some pots, and all I got was a Hawaiian-shirt-wearing, sandal-walking, fish-bowl-drinking man that I don’t recognize anymore.”

Cover Photo: Buena Vista Images (Getty Images)