It was while noting the higher-than-usual price of end-of-day sandwiches at the smaller of the local Bootses that I was a approached by a security guard who asked if I would mind pulling down my hood. I said yes.
I think he thought I meant yes I would pull it down but I meant yes I minded and left if up, continuing to shield all and sundry from my allure.
Don’t tell me how to wear my clothes, Mr. Security Guard. I don’t care if you fear the camera won’t catch me when I steal an emollient. Do your job and watch me closely if you really think I’m a hoodie just because Im wearing a, er … hoodie.