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[castalia]

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The cashier at my favorite local café just addressed me as "young fella".

Then he blinked, said "sorry, young lady" and proceeded to keep on apologizing profusely.

Then he assumed I was French and asked me a few things in French. I'm not sure if it was the hair (the reason for his gender confusion) or my accent. I could only reply with the usual "un peu" when asked if I spoke French. It's been ages and my French is sufficient only to ask for basic things and to tell Christina's mother that Christina isn't at home when she rings.

Geez. I know I have a flat chest and really short hair, but c'mon, people. I'm short and will never be rid of what my mother calls a "pixieish" face - I doubt I could pass for a boy unless I tried really hard and people were very nearsighted.

What a wierd day.