One year I attended the High Heel Race (as a spectator, not a contestant) wearing a red plaid jumper. I was supposed to be a Catholic schoolgirl, but not many people got it. Maybe I should have worn tights. Or at least shaved.
On the way home, I stopped at the local bodega to get a copy of the latest Playgirl, having heard that a guy from Arlington was featured in a spread on sexy firemen. (I was not disappointed.)
The middle-aged Korean clerk seemed slightly flustered and offered me a paper bag. "That's very kind," I replied, "but I'm already wearing a dress and carrying a pocketbook, so I don't really care."
My roommate was mortified.
Good times.
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4 comments:
well, Marty is easily mortified.
Too adorable but you should have shaved.
I'm sure you confused and flustered many middle-aged men who once had illicit Catholic schoolgirl fantasies.
Not in Dupont Circle. Not back then, anyway.
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