Young Roxi, my good friend from my FastWeb days, shares a passion with me: crazy long walks. During these walks, we survey the city landscape and speak of many things.
Just yesterday, she joined me to walk to the Cornservatory to review a show. As we strolled, I boasted that a drunken drifter had called me "beautiful" during my stroll to meet her at the Thorndale El stop, and that this had pleased me. She noted that a wino on the El platform had commented, as she sashayed past, "There goes a pretty lady," and that she was equally gratified.
We mused over the fact that we found compliments from winos, drifters, and homeless men as uniforming charming, whereas similar advances from a be-suited businessman would make us uneasy.
I guess it's because it's clear the wino will have neither the means nor the clarity to solicit one's digits, dig for info so they can demonstrate how much you have in common, or pursue you in any way. And typically, these wino-based compliments are not accompanied by a solicitation of funds. That's what so charming -- they just want to admire your feminine beauty. There's something so pure and honest in that.
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