So, first off, that disclaimer at the bottom of the page that says all content on this site is trademark and copywrite Larry O'Keefe? Not entirely applicable to this picture. And, yes, that is me . . . sadly.I'm not going to go into the details of why I'm wearing a crop top and mini-skirt (and, yes, I am covering my navel), but regardless of the why, I learned some interesting things in the act.
It WAS Halloween. A comic-book store Halloween party to be exact (thanks, Strange Adventures--it was lots of fun!). I prepared for the party as anyone would . . . by drinking heavily. Upon arrival with two friends--a coworker and his girlfriend--the bouncers announced, "IDs please", which prompted me to dig in my purse (look at the costume; do you THINK I had a pocket?). I fished out my wallet, opened it to my driver's license, and handed it to the bouncer. Now, I'm not going to sit here and pretend that I think I look like a woman, but I SWEAR TO GOD he looked at my ID and glanced up really quickly and said, "Interesting costume."
In his defence, it WAS dark.
Observation #1.
Anyway, after getting into the party and hiding in a corner--and taking my coat off--I was introduced to several people who all had questions about the costume. Several of the women noted that I was pulling it off fairly well, but I digress. Finding a dark corner of the bar, I was shocked to be approached by FIVE DIFFERENT WOMEN asking to take my picture; one, a very cute Silent Hill character, wanted her picture taken WITH ME.
Now, to some who may be reading this, it may not seem like such a big deal. But to clarify: I am a geek. No, scratch that: I am a dork. I have NEVER been approached in a bar by a woman (okay, maybe once in University, but I managed to kill that quite quickly).
Observation #2.
After finishing my first beer--obtained quickly on the way in--I determined that I would require further alcohol. Girding my will, I--after about 20 minutes of fidgeting--made my way to the bar. Now, as I said: I'm a dork. And, as a dork, I have noticed that the one place I can normally rely on obtaining a woman's attention is when ordering a beer, whether by waitress or female bartender. Any male can get a smile and a quick-witted comment when a tip is on the line. So as I stood at the bar, waiting for this treasured interaction, I found myself somewhat shocked when--and this happened every time I went back--the rather attractive bartenders hit me with a polite but entirely businesslike, "What can I get you?" No smile. No nod. No flash of cleavage (okay, that doesn't ALWAYS happen, but sometimes . . .).
Observation #3.
As I said, the party was sponsered by a local comic-book shop. And, as part of the party, they had two photographers--one male and one female. The female, intentionally or not, took my picture seven times. The male caught my leg accidentally once.
Observation #4.
So, what is my point? I'm not sure. But I do know that people definitely treated me differently based on how I was dressed. And this may require further study--not that I have any idea how to further study the issue.
But, all in all, it was a fascinating experience.
And, as it turns out, blondes really DO have more fun!
