I met someone new in the village last night, like you do, and we got to talking. She told me at one point that I look adorable in my outfit, so I thanked her and mentioned that it’s at my shop and here’s my business card (hey, always at work). She complimented what things she saw of mine that I built and called me a wonder; she asked if I was a sort of guardian here and I explained that yes, His Lordship makes the rules, I enforce them. She seemed awe-struck. I chalked it up to a little bit of newbie adoration–and, god damn it, I DO do good work.
So I ran into her again today and I found out just why she was so amazed by me: she thought I was a child.
Does this look like a child to you?
Now, I admit it, I’m not 7 feet tall. I’m just short of 6. JUST. I don’t have huge hips, a breakably tiny waist, or breasts that could provide shade to an actual child. But come on! I’ll have you know that this is the same body that had the pirate blokes all hot & bothered at last night’s party.
There are those well-meaning sorts that will suggest I need to vamp up what I look like. Why? I shouldn’t have to do that. I won’t do that. It reminds me of the “friends” I had in school when I was a kid, who suggested I get an operation to make my ears look “a little more human”.
*sigh* Oh well.