Dude or Dudette?

Here I am, sitting in my little cubicle, ready to be done for the day. I toddled home over my lunch hour and mixed some garlic cheesebread dough for a dinner party tonight(hopefully it won't rise too much before I can get back to it!). I didn't notice til I was back at work that my all-black outfit was spotted with flour. Yes, thank you, I am a slob.

On a different note, I love the people in my neighborhood. Everyone says hello, and everyone calls me baby(including girls who are probably younger than me, meh). Last night, I had my best neighborly encounter yet! I was walking home from the grocery store around 9 o'clock and it was super dark outside. The streets are lit by lamps, but there isn't any light on the sidewalks. There was a large black man walking a ways ahead of me, and he kept looking back in an agitated manner. After walking like this for a couple of blocks, he angrily mumbled something that sounded a whole lot like "muthaf*cka" and started walking in the street instead of the sidewalk. A while later, I had caught up to him and we both waited for cars to pass so we could cross the street. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him looking at me.

"It's a girl," he said under his breath. I froze, mortified. A few minutes later he yelled, "Sorry Lady, I thought you was a dude!" I snorted. I've never been mistaken for a man before. Hadn't he seen my long hair? My handbag? My cleave, glowing in the light of the moon?

This reminds me of a similar event from last autumn. Wiki and I were in the Big City for a Regina Spektor show. On the way back home, we got lost in a rather seedy neighborhood and happened upon a chubby woman in a miniskirt and platform boots, standing on the corner.
"Oh look! A hooker!" we said. Then the woman turned around...and it was a MAN!
"It's a trannie hooker!" I screamed, and we zoomed off.

Oh man, good times.