In a drunk wardrobe-malfunctioning decision, I decided to remove my leggings. I had just purchased boots and I liked them and decided to wear them with a wool sweater that can serve as a mini-dress…with the appropriate accessories. Then the bars were hot. And I was about 4 vodka tonics and 2 shots in so when I asked my friends “would it be too slutty without leggings" and they resounded “no”, I decided to remove them…in the middle of the bar. So, that was not my best decision; but, also not the worst – or most random. And while it was cooler - I’ll hand that to drunk self - I won't being taking inebriated style advice from boys anymore.
The night continues and I hear of odd things happening but really have no recollection. So lets move to our next drunk decision.
By the time I reached a metro (I think I got lost first), the gates were closed. Nuts. So I turn to the corner with a million cabs zooming past. It was cold and, even though I had leggings in my pocket and my butt was freezing, I guess my drunk self decided putting ON leggings, I had taken off in a bar, in the middle of the sidewalk, would be wildly inappropriate. And I could not catch a cab. Maybe they thought I was a hooker (apparently at the bar an Indian man asked my friend “How much for the blonde”). So, back to step one: I won’t be doing that again…no matter how hot the wool.
Step two continues when I do get a cab. There was someone in the back. And that’s not legal, but near freezing temps made me not care even a little; you better bet this bitty got in that cab. And thanked him. I sat in front since the other fare was in the back and on curb side. He took the other guy home, and then took me home. Then, for some reason, I sat and talked to the cab driver for at least an hour.
What did we talk about? I have no idea. And then the cops showed up.
The cop was rather mean to the driver for no reason. Scolding him for parking a foot past the sign. the cab driver kept saying, “this is my friend, she lives here”. Legging-less me, appearing as a slut-on-accident – but in a long jacket, concurred. The cop asked for my ID. I obliged. The cab driver asked the cop what was wrong and the cop said there has been a problem with prostitution in my area (which, now that I think about it…really??). I then proceeded to scold the officer for suggesting I was a prostitute. He encouraged that’s not what he was suggesting and apologized; he went away, checked our records or whatnot, then came back. A minute later, after hugging the driver, I walked a few steps to my door.
Step two suggests my conclusion of step one is re-affirmed: KEEP ON YOUR LEGGINGS, WOMAN! For the
Now, perhaps this wasn’t my best decision, but the cab driver was very nice. And not in an obvious way – gentle, soft spoken…sad, even. And while I don’t really recall what he said or what we talked about, I do remember vaguely him talking about his family and I think the word “lonely” popped up. Sure, I might have been in knee-high boots and a knee-length jacket, but I honestly think this guy wanted a kind ear. And that’s all. And everyone can laugh at me or nativity or the cop thing (cause, well, the cop thing is typical of my life), but sometimes it makes you wonder that if you didn’t take that time to spend with a stranger, what might have been? Or what might not be now?
Sometimes people just need someone to listen to them. And sometimes, even if you’re drunk, you can sense that and it’s not necessary to ignore it. Sometimes, people just need a hug from a stranger. And maybe it means nothing and maybe it meant everything. Perhaps I'm stupid, but maybe I'm just kind.
For future reference: Trust your gut, listen more and hug strangers. The world’s not such a bad place. My hope believes that.