I walked a block from the office to pick up the arrest logs at the New London police station this afternoon. I crossed the street, chatting away on my cell phone. A man in the upper reaches of middle age leaned out of his car, which was stopped at the light, and called out, "Excuse me!"
I turned around.
"You're wearing a dress and pants," he said. His head and that of his female companion were both cocked to the side, two quizzical fowl.
"Yes," I said.
He nodded as though my response cleared something up, and then the light changed and the car continued up the hill.