Costume: Low oxygenated blood colored ankle-high shoes with laces and small heel that cannot be trotted out in public without commentary. They are Fluevogs that Chuck got me a few years ago and fall somewhere between gothic pioneer woman, eccentric roller skater and retired witch, god love 'em.
Woman in her cups: Ohhh. I like your shoes!
Me: Thanks! My boyfriend got them for me.
Woman in her cups: She has good taste.
Me in my head: Did she say "She"?
Overheard as I walked away: Did she say boyfriend or girlfriend?
How refreshing. It's been years since I've been mistaken for a lesbian.