…And as I worked, confining my rat’s nest within a multitude of bobby pins and enough hair spray to punch a new hole in the ozone layer, I reflected on the fact that, invariably, someone will come up to me and try to touch my hair.
It’s Like My Own Version of “Jaywalking”, Right in My Backyard…
Sometimes it’s a last-minute morning run to a supermarket to grab food on the way to an event. Or maybe it’s a stop-off at a restaurant on the way home. Even a pit stop to gas up the car. Either way, the reactions from the unsuspecting public are always amusing and never predictable.
I once had a man stop me on the street as I packed up my car, dressed only in my smallclothes. But he correctly identified me as a Revolutionary War reenactor (100 points to him!), and asked if there was an event nearby. He sounded keen to attend and it saddened me to inform him that the one I was headed to was over an hour away.
That’s a good interaction. He realized I was a reenactor. He knew what time period I portrayed. He seemed really excited that there might be a reenactment happing close by.
Most of the time, we aren’t that lucky. I don’t mean to harp on the public. They mean well. Often, they want to make informed inquiries but simply don’t have the framework by which to formulate questions. Read more
Confessions of a Female Grenadier 