In a Cool June

In a month, my bare legs won't be such a shock.

For one, bare legs will be normal by mid-July whereas this chilly year, they are not so in mid-June. For two, mine won't still be pasty white, and thereby glowing in the gloaming.

But it is not mid-July, it is mid-June, and my bare legs garnered a fair bit of attention on my walk to the Imperial last night.* Some random looks, a "Hey;" whatever, none of it was anything to get your knickers in a twist about, so I just thought my thoughts and it wasn't hard to do the regular ol' subconscious Rapist Threat Assessment.

And then I crossed the street, Somerset Street at Bay, to cut through Dundonald over to Lyon. The two guys who'd been heading towards me were still ambling along, I clocked that they'd noted me, dismissed them as any kind of threat.

I got to the northwest corner of the park.

"How you doon?"

I heard this over my shoulder, from the white blob just passing out of my peripheral vision. Generally, when men call things out at me I pretend that they must be talking to someone else, even if there isn't anyone else around. Sometimes I want to crack wise back, but mostly I'd rather not engage with the kind of people who turn the word "doing" into one syllable.

Some reason, this time I couldn't do it. There was a slight hitch in my step and I felt all my back muscles twitch simultaneously. I kept going, but I knew they now knew I was ignoring them. Shit fuck. There was gonna be more.

There was.

"Legs that long, you could walk to Europe!"

This time I had my proper ignoring walk on so I just kept going. But the more blocks I walked, the weirder it seemed to me. Anyone could walk to Europe. Or not, you know, since it's across the ocean.

When I got to the Imperial, I nearly collapsed when I hoisted myself up onto the chair across the table from Jennifer.

"What?" she said. "Europe? Europe?!"

"I know," I responded. "Halfway through the park I wanted to turn around and be like, 'Dude, c'mon, they're not webbed. But thanks.'"

We really did collapse then.

*They also garnered a fair bit of attention from the person for whom they'd been prepared. A good story and lots of invited attention! A banner night.