Fashion Don'ts

While drinking an iced and blended coffee drink at the Flying Star, the one on Rio Grande, I couldn’t help but watch, like a car accident, a guy alone at a table. He is a type. He sat in such a way to suggest a circle with his body as the outer, protective wall. Or maybe he just got out of prison and is used to protecting his food with his encompassing arms. He wore baggy factory faded jeans and an aqua, wide wale corduroy over-sized shirt. He had no t-shirt under it like a properly dressed man. He also had those horrible, suede, slip-on shoes so popular with the tasteless. And of course he wore no socks. He had earrings and short bangs and was a little too tan for this time of the year. What originally caught my attention was that he was talking on a hands free headset, which is probably the only way he can talk on a phone because he talks with his hands. He made sweeping gestures to help illustrate points he was making. I hated him. The question is, is he the one with the problem or am I? It’s him, right? Not me.