While doing a tile job up in a moderately wealthy local suburb, the lady of the house somewhat out of nowhwere says to me,"You're not fooling anyone;" I'm puzzled. "With your short haircut and your nice manners.You're one of them."
"I certainly don't know what you mean ma'm."
"Oh please, you're one of them, those Lark Street types. I see that tatoo and that earing"
For those of you in Hungary or elswhere, that was at the time, Albany's hipster neighborhood, for the lack of a better description. I was found out as a hispster trying to pass in the sraight world by her estimation.
At anytime you might be in the presence of a ghost, a republican, a pervert, a slave trader, an aging hippie with control issues, an escaped convict, or a banjo player.
Mind your tone. Be polite.
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