To Sir, With Love

Raven and I were almost home this morning. We had encountered 4 dogs--one schnauzer type dog at pretty close range, but no one was injured, and I think no feelings were hurt. I had enjoyed Rebecca St. James on the iPod, after I finally figured out how to keep the earplugs in without my usual hat on (it's supposed to be 50 degrees here again today--woo hoo!)

But Rebecca was done singing. Raven was chomping at the bit, knowing his breakfast awaited him at home. Then I heard a voice call out, "Sir!"

Even though I was wearing my black coat, hood up, I thought, "they can't be calling me. I'm definitely a "Miss"--well, at least a "Ma'am." I'm less than 5 1/2 feet tall. Plus, I was wearing my furry topped black boots.

I rounded the corner, and a car with an older couple pulled up next to me. "Can you tell us how to find Broadway?"

I answered with my very best feminine voice. "If you want to find Broadway, you may be 60 years too late. I think they are only interested in actors in their 20s and 30s--ones with good eyesight who can distinguish between the sexes--never mind that they may be bundled up in black and walking a German shepherd type dog." (is that a masculine thing to do?). (Perhaps I was mistaken for a short, resurrected Johnny Cash.)

Well, I didn't' really answer this way. I told them that West Broadway Ave. was straight down the road, at the second traffic light. They thanked me and were on their way.

I'm going out now to buy a bright pink coat with lace. Since it's warm out these days, I'll wear a short skirt and pink tennis shoes and frilly socks.

I'll be Ma'am to everyone I encounter. Old and young alike. If I don't scare them all off.

Till next time,


Suzi