I am ready to be presentable as a chef. I have my chef jacket and my hat but I do not have any white aprons, so I ask Misha to give me some white aprons to match my outfit. They do not have any; they only have black aprons. I decide then that we will go and buy two white aprons. Misha called a place where they can make fitted aprons on the spot. We get in the car and arrive in a very industrial section of town. Suddenly, the car climbs a very desolate, concrete, scary ramp. It keeps going upward in the dark and finally with the flashlight, we parked the car. With the flashlight, we enter a big room with about 50 sewing machines and we are led to a small room with a desk and receptionist. Misha explains that we would like two white aprons. We are shown different materials. I choose a nice cotton, I am measured, and within ten minutes and fervent activities from two separate sewing machines, cutting knives, threading of the needle, and the bobbing of the spools, the two seamstresses had my aprons ready. The room was empty of people except my two seamstresses. I paid adding 10 dollars for their eagerness in satisfying me on the spot but the policy of the house was to refuse. I felt very strange leaving this place and was wondering where were the other seamstresses. Were they off? Was it a time of hardship in the economy? We went down again to the darkness of the ramp back to the hectic traffic of Tbilisi and finally back to the restaurant.