A few weeks ago, a blogging friend wrote and told me straight up that I needed a new profile picture and who better to take it than him?
When he's not teaching English to the masses, he is quite the talented photographer, so naturally I took him up on his generous offer.
He already had a concept in mind, one of his strengths being art direction, so we made arrangements to meet at the library and discreetly shoot.
It didn't really matter how big of a hot mess I looked, because the plan was to shoot low, and by that I mean my lower extremities.
Accordingly, I rummaged through my better than average tights collection to find just the thing for my new profile pic and decided on the Berlin tights.
They're funky, they're attention-getters and they're not something a person sees every day in RVA.
How do I know this?
I left the apartment to go to the library and as I crossed my own street, a guy on a bike said hello, followed by, "I LIKE your tights!...A lot!"
Arriving at the library two guys just leaving turned a full 180 degrees as I passed them on my way towards the door.
I couldn't resist turning around and flat out asking them, "It's the tights you're looking at, isn't it?"
One mutely nodded and the other just gave me a goofy grin.
After shooting, we went to Tarrant's for fried food, a requirement of our get-togethers; we quite happily shared fries and fish tacos, dishing all the while.
We were in that limbo time before the dinner rush begins, affording us an opportunity to bounce off the staff.
Our server explained to us why Rhode Island, her home state, is called the Ocean State.
Ron folded napkins like a pro and quoted lines from the movie "Arthur" to our amusement.
We both made a pilgrimage to the other dining room to admire the new carpeting and inhale its new rug smell.
As we were leaving, my friend asked Ron the Napkin-Folder why he hadn't commented on my great tights.
"I didn't want to say something filthy," he claimed.
Or maybe he's just waiting for the picture.