So walking home today in my favorite (also only) fall skirt (its pink corduroy and just above the knee) some guy riding his bike in the other direction said (not called out, but said, in a speaking tone) "big legs, big legs". I KID YOU NOT. I freely admit I have big legs. In fact, while I prefer to think of them as sturdy and lightly padded, like a good dining chair, I will even admit my calves don't really fit into knee high boots (except the ones from the "women's" store, disturbing since the rest of me is a couple of sizes and a few stones too small to shop there). However, this does not forgive the audible commentary of a complete stranger (think it all you want, heck, I do it too) talking to himself (had he been pointing them out to a friend or something, I'd somehow be less annoyed, probably because I make inappropriate remarks too loudly sometimes, or so I'm told anyway).
Too bad my mouth was full of pretzel at the time, or I'd have said something.