Last night, trudging down the hill on the Common, a group of what I believe to be GBTQ young men of color passed me walking up the hill. I was dressed, you know, how I dress in these cold temps. (I have a new, brown "Kenny" coat that is nearly identical to Sue's, except longer, complete with faux fur lined hood. You can barely even see my eyes!) The guy furthest away leans across his pals, snaps his bare fingers at me and says, "You WORK your way to the T in your coat." I'm going to use my new vocabulary word: I baltered.*  I stopped, threw my arms as high as I could in my many layers, & shook my bootie. They erupted into laughter. I either bolstered or annihilated all my street cred. Well, at least it was done anonymously.

* balter

(bol'ter) v.

To dance gracelessly, without particular art of skill, but perhaps with some enjoyment. [MIDDLE ENGLISH]

Things I witnessed today: A) a man riding a motorcycle. I cannot IMAGINE what inspired that necessity. B) an old, large, floppy, heavy bed pillow blowing down Market St like a tumbleweed C) adults in full-on winter gear whimpering like children while waiting for the bus. Interestingly enough, wasn't me. I am wearing my ski pants & New England burka, but wishing I had worn my 20 # boots.