Observation

Yesterday afternoon I was standing on the southwest corner of 14th street and Broadway. It is one of the busier intersections in my neighborhood. A young woman came up and tapped me on the shoulder.

“Excuse me,” she said, “but I think you should know that your skirt is on sideways.”

The skirt I was wearing was a denim mini. It fit perfectly when I first bought it but then I lost weight. Now it has a tendency to slide around when I wear it.

The young woman was right. The skirt had, at that moment, slid sideways.

“Thanks,” I said.

I slid my skirt back around and walked home. But I couldn’t help but wonder how it was that on that particularly chaotic corner she had zeroed in on my skirt. I also wondered why it was she felt compelled to say something to me. It wasn’t like my purse was open, which people have made me aware of before, and which I have done for others. There’s a sound cause for that particular piece of unsolicited advice. You could get pick-pocketed with an open purse.

But what harm is going to come from a denim mini being on sideways? Was this woman scared that a rogue fashion magazine photographer was going to take a shot and put it on their fashion don’t page with a black box over my eyes?

And what if I in fact had chosen to wear my skirt like that as some sort of fashion statement? I hadn’t, but I could have.

I slid my skirt back to the side.

Observations aren’t always welcome. Earlier that day everyone in my office listened as teachers ran scantron forms through the scantron correction machine. A lot of ping sounds meant the student did not do well. Very few pings meant the student barely got any wrong.

There were raised eyebrows and whispers.

“Her exams are too hard.”

“He’s way too easy.”

The worst was when a scantron form elicited a round of machine gun fire.

“Jesus!”

“Did you teach that kid anything?”

“What, are you getting a kickback from summer school?”

“He’s one of the weaker ones,” the offending teacher would stammer, red-faced, “…never came to class..” The teacher continued trying to defend his or herself but gave up when another few scantrons met with a D Day-like response from the machine.

And they wonder why we need two months off a year.

Later that day I was walking home when I passed a bunch of kids dressed for prom standing outside Bowlmar Lanes.

“You guys have prom tonight?” I asked.

“Yup,” said one kid decked out in a dapper bowler.

“On a Tuesday?” I said. I realized as soon as I did that there had been judgment in them there words. There had been sideways skirts and noisy scantrons. Before he could respond I spoke again.

“Best night of the week,” I said, “Have fun!”

I walked away.

I mean, really, what the hell did that kid care what I thought anyway?