Had to repost my experience on the subway that I wrote about on Ravelry this morning... It's too weird NOT to share:
This morning at 7am I was on the downtown 4 happily knitting and minding my own business.
This guy gets on at Grand Central, sits down next to me, and starts asking me questions about my knitting. Ok, no problem.
“What are you knitting? Who is it for?”
I answer, tell him the sweater is for me, and chat with him for a bit…
Then he asks me what size I’m making. Oooooooohkay. Not giving out that information. And he keeps pressing me “Didn’t you measure your body? Didn’t you write down what your measurements are?”
Um. Again, not answering that question. I deflect, redirect his attention to something else. He talks about his grandmother and how she used to knit, and how he adores a fisherman's sweater he bought in Ireland.
As he’s getting off the train at City Hall he leans down and says “You know, if you ever want to supplement your income…”
and I reply “Knitting doesn’t pay that well, but thank you.”
“Oh, I wasn’t talking about knitting.” He stares pointedly at my boobs and gets off the train.
WTF? Seriously? I don’t look like a hooker. If anything, I look like a soccer mom with really bland taste in clothing. No makeup, I don’t bother with my hair most days, my boobs aren’t particularly big, and I’m wearing a high-necked shirt today.
Yeah, because we all know that knitting and prostitution go hand in hand.
Maybe he was just hot for granny?