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.
1 comments:
Well, if you were a lesiban... you would at least have a reason to come to New York now.
Thank you for making me laugh when I need one. (not the lesbian thing, just in general)
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