A regular weekend activity is to escort lovely ladies to the grocery store. During winter months, it is quite common that I wear comfortable leather jeans, a flannel shirt, and a leather jacket. Black boots, of course, complete the UoD.

None of my friends say a thing about the leather. They are quite accustomed to seeing me dressed that way.

Ever the gentleman, I frequently reach on high shelves to get items for my sr. friends who are, let’s say, “vertically challenged.”

That background lead to an amusing situation on Sunday…

…when I was with three lovely ladies helping them shop. Another older woman came up to one of my friends to ask, “can you tell me where this kind of pasta is?” — pointing to a box of pasta in her cart.

I overheard my friend say, “it’s way up there on that shelf.”

The other woman said, “I can’t reach it; how did you get it?”

My friend said, “ask my friend–he’s the one in leather,” smiled, and pointed toward me.

The other woman looked me up and down, jumped a little bit and said, “you shop with him?” and I could hear nervousness in her voice with the emphasis on “him”.

My friend replied, “you would never find a nicer, kinder, and more helpful man to go shopping with.”

I reached up to that shelf and got a box of pasta that the woman wanted. I gave the woman a big grin, and said, “here ya go!”

The woman said, “thank you. Nice to meet someone so helpful.”

I could imagine what she might have been saying had I not had my senior pal break the ice about “that dude in leather.” We both got a laugh out of it.

Life is short: wear leather in public. NBD.