A fine lady?

Yesterday, I had to take a taxi ride during the course of my work. I walked out of the station and was greeted by a very courteous gentleman of err… east African origin, I think. His car was a big black Mercedes and as I rode in the back I felt quite regal. His english was quite good and we had a small amount of conversation on the journey. As I was getting out of the cab, he called me a “fine lady”. Well! I didn’t really know how to take that. At first I was flattered but then the cynical bitch inside me took over and I wondered if he was just humouring me. Surely he must have realised from my voice that all was not as it seemed. Perhaps he was visually impaired and half deaf.

Oh My God!  Did I just endure a forty five minute cab ride with a half blind driver?

Noo!   Go back to being flattered!

2 thoughts on “A fine lady?

  1. Made me think of an incident from about 20 years ago. I was in a narrow aisle in the local library, and noticed with my peripheral vision someone coming down the same aisle. As he squeezed past me, I heard a very friendly male voice say “Excuse me, young lady.”

    Wow! Not just “lady,” but YOUNG lady! This at the time just-entering-my 40s crossdresser was giddy at such a compliment!

    Then I turned to see my flattering friend.

    The guy was 90……at least. My grandmother would have been a “young lady” to him.

    Well, the “lady” part was nice, too. I guess we’d call that one a push.

    Like

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