I was out with a couple of my girlfriends last night when, predictably, a very drunk man approached and began talking to us. I don’t think his original intention was to invade our good time, but to smoke a cigarette, and we happened to be sitting at a nearby patio table.
After he tired of Amy – or actually, Amy managed to make a getaway, leaving Suze and I defenseless – he turned to me and said, “Does you old man let you go out dressed like that?”
I responded, “My old man doesn’t let me do anything.”
The basic principle aside, which is that it’s-2008-and-not-1888-and-Oh-My-Gawd-I-have-a-Master’s-degree-and-have-never-used-the-phrase-‘old man’-in-reference-to-a-spouse,-bf,-or S.O.-in-my-life (breathe), let me explain how absurd this statement was.
My outfit consisted of a denim skirt exceeding the fingertip length required by most public schools, a dark grey 3/4 length sleeve, boatneck top that is not remotely form-fitting, and brown, stiletto, knee-high boots.
The only flesh on display were my knees, and upon closer examination, they are hopelessly scarred from multitudes of childhood tumbles.
Aside from the basic principle (again – cuz that sticks in my proverbial craw too), this Pall Mall smoking dude was communicating another message with his (somewhat, I think) back-handed compliment, which is this (from the perspective of his thoughts, if he had such contemplations, which I doubt he does) –
Despite the fact you are wearing more clothing than some church-goers, I am sexually attracted to you. As such, you should forced to wear Muumuus in a gaudy floral print and not permitted to shower, brush your hair, use deodorant or put on a smidge of makeup if you’re going to be seen in public – especially since you are INVOLVED WITH A MAN. If you were single, the idea that I find your physical self compelling would be acceptable, but since you are unavailable for my caveman-like conquering, you should be locked away forever and ever, amen.