And that's just what they'll do...

Yesterday, while working on an endless stream of errands (which included going to the dry cleaner to pick up a dress, a skirt, and a pair of pants for which my mom did not have a ticket and had already paid for but insisted the owner had kept because of a stain that required special attention, leaving the dry cleaner with only my dress and skirt because (not completely unsurprisingly) the dry cleaner had no memory of the previous pants-related interaction and then going back to the dry cleaner after mom called the cleaners and promised not to yell...Given the number of bowing apologies made by the dry cleaner when I came back for the pants, I don't quite believe her), I walked into Starbuck(')s for a pick-me-up. I'd hoped to try the espresso truffle, which looks tasty but I never order because I usually get coffee on the way to work and only have time for the ready-to-pour-right-now variety. They were, of course, out of whatever is required to make the espresso truffle and I ordered a Venti Americano instead. But this is not the point of the post. The point is that when I walked in, the barista told me I reminded him of a snippet from the trailer for Pretty Woman. Apparently, something about the way I walk reminded this man of hookers.

I knew I shouldn't have tried the whole jeans tucked into boots thing. I was worried that with my coat it would make it look like I was recruiting for a reformed Nazi party (according to Ian, my coat is alarmingly Teutonic.) I didn't realize that my outfit made me look like I could make a living on Craigslist (I'm like 3,000 roses.) To be fair, he meant it as a compliment and told me I had a good walk. All I could think to say in return was "Well, I've been doing it for about 22 years now."