Bold?

TRUTH:  I know it's silly but it just occurred to me that I should post stories like the following, here. I've been so busy wanting every one else to tell their stories, I forgot to tell my own.

Saturday I was wearing my blue flower print dress. Hem length, mid-thigh. Tights, and suede black high heeled booties.

I was headed to a brunch date and knew I was fly with my aviators on and the cold wind whipping through my hair.

"Miss. Excuse me Miss... What do you do for a living?" He said looking me up and down. I looked him over; he seemed earnest. Unassuming. It was the rare occasion that I'd answer, truthfully. "I'm a dancer."

"Uh huh... I knew you'd have to be bold to come out looking like that."

I turned and continued to walk to the train. He continued to call after me. "Nah nah, I don't mean no harm. I actually work for an entertainment agency. Miss Miss! I don't mean no harm." There was that earnestness again.

I called back, "I believe you. I'm not interested. Have a nice afternoon." He kept talking, and I kept walking.

For a second, I pondered if my skirt was too short. I know I've got legs. Was my ass out? I self consciously tugged at the hem.

Then I told myself to stop. You're fine. Just get to the train. But I wondered, am I bold? I looked around, and on a cold winters day there was not a woman in sight showing her legs. Instead, jeans and long down coats abounded.

While waiting on the train platform I pulled out my book and began reading, taking notes with my ink pen. This stuff is so crazy looking back on it. I think I wanted to send a message to whoever was looking: This is not just a body, it's a brain. It was the best accessory to complement my dress.