A short word on shorts
In the several days I’ve been missing from your lives, days of oppressive heat and humidity, days in which walking down the street was like a preview of Hell, I have done some more research on the topic of the previous post. Intensive research. Yes, I looked at other people’s clothes as I walked around. And I have changed my mind on this topic. You see, I’m sure fewer people wear shorts here than in your town, that is, if you don’t live here. Or in Alaska. But lots of people did, in fact, wear shorts in my neighborhood. Almost every guy. And maybe 30% of women.
Then I went back to work in Midtown and the only short-panted people were obvious tourists. And so, I have a new hypothesis. The chick who wrote that letter never leaves the tourist area! And she is shocked, shocked, to see that the natives are not hanging about, lounging, walking slowly, looking around, dressed in casual, comfortable clothing. What is it with these people? Don’t they realize this is like Disney World North? Why are they all dressed up? If she visits every year, she might try leaving Times Square and Rockefeller Center.
But seriously. This is why we love the cities we visit. We’re on vacation while we’re there.
She should have just gone in January, like I did. Then she would not have been questioning why people were wearing underwear, jeans, knee socks, tank tops, tshirts, sweaters, coats, hats, gloves and scarves all at one time.
Or maybe that was just me.
You forgot to wear a file folder on your head. I hear that’s the ultimate accessory.