So this past winter, right? Bossy and her friend Martha had just attended a free concert on a Friday afternoon, and like every other Friday following a free concert, they found themselves on two barstools at the train station knocking back some condiments.
This particular train station bar features classic bar table seating on the inside, and cafe seating on the outside, except it’s not really an outside because it’s still inside the train station — for those keeping track at home that’s an inside and an outside and an outside and an inside, and who needs a gah on the rocks?
So anyway, Bossy and her friend Martha were situated around their usual inside bar table looking through the window at the outdoor cafe tables inside, when Bossy said, “That gentleman has what you call classic good looks.”
It was his salt and pepper demeanor, mostly, very laid back with a certain understated power and air of success:
Martha mulled Bossy’s comment for a minute and then announced, “Yeah, well, I like his socks.”
Bossy hadn’t noticed his socks, and quite honestly it was sort of a deal breaker for Bossy — but Bossy was swept along with Martha and her interpretation of the gentleman’s sense of confidence to wear socks so red. And all was copacetic at the bar table belonging to Bossy and her friend Martha.
Until Bossy’s friend Martha tapped on the window glass to get the gentleman’s attention.
“I like your socks!” Bossy’s friend Martha mouthed through the glass when the gentleman finally looked up.
The gentleman looked perplexed, and not just a little worried about the pink-haired lady on the other side of the glass. “Your socks, your socks!” Bossy’s friend Martha repeatedly mouthed, pointing downward past the man’s lap. “Nice socks!”
The gentleman shifted in his seat and grew more uncomfortable as his law firm partner looked on in bewilderment and Bossy’s friend Martha continued with the motioning. “Socks,” she mouthed again, drawing the word out and pointing steadily downward.
It was at this moment Bossy realized that a word like socks, when mouthed through a bar window, looks to all the world — and two senior bank executives sitting at an outdoor table inside — to be sex.
leslie saysAugust 20, 2009 at 10:30 am
Philly saysAugust 20, 2009 at 10:37 am
He looks like Sen. Arlen Spector,,,doesn’t he?
Hokie Deb saysAugust 20, 2009 at 10:38 am
–>At least Bossy’s friend Martha didn’t look like she was saying “Elephant Shoes!” Try it in the mirror, looks like “I Love You!”
Bridget saysAugust 20, 2009 at 10:47 am
Um … you know … if I were a dude and someone was pointing down (possibly towards my lap) and mouthing something that rhymes with c-o-c-k … I might be a little confused too. Me thinks “sex” is the least of your lost in translation worries. Sayin’
dgm saysAugust 20, 2009 at 10:55 am
My friends and I used to silently mouth “vacuum” to each other from a distance, cuz it looked like we were saying “f-you.” Don’t judge me! I was in high school.
anne marie in philly saysAugust 20, 2009 at 11:01 am
I can dig the red sox!
David saysAugust 20, 2009 at 11:04 am
“that’s an inside and an outside and an outside and an inside”
Is it good? Darn tootin’! It’s the Big…Fig…Newtooooon!
Sorry, that’s all I could think of after I read that sentence. You were saying? Something about socks?
MariaV saysAugust 20, 2009 at 11:11 am
I had a feeling where you were headed with this tale, but still laughed out loud.
MariaV saysAugust 20, 2009 at 11:12 am
P.S. He couldn’t have been to scared if he didn’t get up and leave.
Chesapeake Bay Woman saysAugust 20, 2009 at 11:26 am
Soxy is the new sexy, I guess.
Cactus Petunia saysAugust 20, 2009 at 11:26 am
Bossy, have you been consuming the condiments a little early this morning?
Debby saysAugust 20, 2009 at 11:29 am
If he has the you-know-whats to wear those red socks, it serves him right!
TheWordWire saysAugust 20, 2009 at 11:45 am
And now all the men at the firm are wearing red socks… This is one of those stories I’ve love to hear from his point of view.
Aimee saysAugust 20, 2009 at 11:47 am
Just wanted to say that the man appears to be drinking a good beer too. Probably an IPA or a wheat beer. Red Socks and good taste in beer, I think I’m in love! With his sex, socks, cocks, and beer or whatever!
Reeb saysAugust 20, 2009 at 12:15 pm
So Bossy, does anybody ever get up and accost you for taking photos of them? MULTIPLE photos? You’re the paparazzi of the common people.
I agree about the classic good looks part, in sort of a Paul Newman / Anderson Cooper way. I noticed the socks right off — how’d Bossy miss them? (the condiments?) And why didn’t Martha point to her ankles, and what would the guy have misconstrued that as? so many questions, such a good story. I agree with WordWire/13!
kristin @ going country saysAugust 20, 2009 at 12:16 pm
How could you NOT notice his socks? They were the first thing I noticed in the photo. Like beacons.
Christna saysAugust 20, 2009 at 12:29 pm
Oh Martha! You flustered him… Have an other ketchup.
Julie saysAugust 20, 2009 at 12:31 pm
Oh how I want to hang out with Bossy and Bossy’s friend Martha! Adult beverages? Check. Unhealthy snacks? Check. Making attractive strangers think you are either a hooker or unhinged? Check. Good times.
Momo Fali saysAugust 20, 2009 at 1:08 pm
I blame that for lots of things. Like ingesting Sahara Desert sun-dried tomato and goat cheese canapé just because Bossy tells you to.
Manic Mommy saysAugust 20, 2009 at 1:17 pm
Tap. Tap. Tap.
(mouths) I like your friend Martha.
(enunciating) Marrrrr – thaaa.
Scottsdale Girl saysAugust 20, 2009 at 1:50 pm
Socks, Cocks, Sex. Oh My
Liz in Virginia saysAugust 20, 2009 at 1:57 pm
I’m with # 12 — I say anybody wearing smokin’ red socks is hoping someone will notice them.
Maybe he was just letting the pink hair down easy. Or maybe he thought she was saying,” I want to have sex with your socks.” Or “I want to have socks with your sex.”
reen saysAugust 20, 2009 at 3:05 pm
Oh Bossy…not only was that story hi(c)larious, but you have probably the best, funniest commenters on the interwebs. Hic.
chook saysAugust 20, 2009 at 3:08 pm
those are some fancy socks! he must have big balls to wear them.
~annie saysAugust 20, 2009 at 3:49 pm
I would have thought mouthing “socks” might look more like “rocks” or “cocks” or “f—s”. Either way, all the same territory. Anyway, with socks that red, he is screaming for attention to be paid to his feet. And we all know what they say about the size of a man’s feet…
sewmouse saysAugust 20, 2009 at 4:01 pm
“Anyway, with socks that red, he is screaming for attention to be paid to his feet”
Or he’s a baseball fan.
Gail K. saysAugust 20, 2009 at 4:42 pm
Heck, I thought it was Matt Lauer and we were going to play “Where in the world in Matt?” and the answer was going to be: “In a train station (or outside a train station’s insides) have condiments with Bossy and Martha” and I would win an all expenses paid trip to “BossyLand” and how is THAT for a run-on sentence?
Lovelyn saysAugust 20, 2009 at 5:10 pm
That’s too funny!!
Ms. Cranky Pants saysAugust 20, 2009 at 5:21 pm
as long as you didn’t hold up the ketchup bottle and point to it, while mouthing ‘socks’ cuz that would have resulted in a call home for bail money, for sure.
NaysWay saysAugust 20, 2009 at 5:28 pm
I’m gonna have to agree. The red sox are a definite deal breaker, especially because, hello? Do you see any other red in that outfit? Is it microscopic?
NaysWay would love to put Martha in her pocket. She is awesome.
thatgirlblogs saysAugust 20, 2009 at 6:10 pm
also rhymes with… (sorry)… cocks.
sugarpie saysAugust 20, 2009 at 7:53 pm
If you are gonna wear red socks, you’re gonna attract attention. And Like Barretta said: “Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time.”
Reeb saysAugust 20, 2009 at 8:01 pm
So I”m revisiting to see what all the clever commenters have contributed (good job, all!) and NOW I have a context for the headline, and Bossy, it’s really funny.
Lucy and Ethel indeed.
Only Lucy’s a curly blonde, and Ethel’s got hellzapoppin screaming (with a more subtle layer here or there) pink.
Or — is it the other way around? I think you were Ethel to Martha’s Lucy…
Shelley saysAugust 20, 2009 at 8:07 pm
I have to admit, the socks were the first thing I noticed, because how could you not notice the RED? And yes, totally a deal-breaker.
Cupcake Murphy saysAugust 20, 2009 at 8:21 pm
Um. You’re going to jail.
mandible saysAugust 20, 2009 at 8:27 pm
Wow, that guy looks like Mark Sanford, the embarrassment of my great state of SC, although I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be wearing red socks.
Not June Cleaver saysAugust 20, 2009 at 8:32 pm
Maybe he’s actually dead?
vuboq saysAugust 20, 2009 at 8:59 pm
The socks look orange to me. Maybe orange-red. But definitely more orange than red.
I *heart* Bossy’s Friend Martha.
janny226 saysAugust 20, 2009 at 10:06 pm
Mr. Classic looks like a cross between Mayor Mike Bloomberg and my Congressman, Chuck Schumer. Just think, you ladies might’ve gotten yourselves entangled in a political scandal! Oh, the fame! The headlines! The book deals! All from socks!
Oh, um ,that reminds me… wasn’t Bill Clinton’s cat named Socks?
Marinka saysAugust 21, 2009 at 6:44 am
I like that there is a rope protecting him from commoners. In a pinch, can be used as a lasso! Or a noose.
Cat saysAugust 21, 2009 at 8:19 am
My brother has always had a thing for women in red shoes. I think I’m going to join his red footwear fetish. I now have a thing for men in red socks.
helenel saysAugust 21, 2009 at 8:41 am
I like how Bossy is all about ‘demeanor’ and ‘understated’ and Martha goes right to ‘socks’.
Cheri @ Blog This Mom! saysAugust 21, 2009 at 1:48 pm
This could totally happen to me and Kate. Guess which one of us would be knocking on the window?
kate saysAugust 21, 2009 at 1:59 pm
this could totally happen to me and Cheri. except. that would require that we occasionally do things together that aren’t a) emailing each other or b) texting each other. also? on the occasions when we do other things together, it would require that we strayed away from the favored topics of ME and HER and how the WORLD revolves around exactly ME and HER. and we’ve never been to a train station.
Cheri @ Blog This Mom! saysAugust 21, 2009 at 2:06 pm
And? Although Kate and I rarely stray away from the favored topics of HER and ME which is exactly equal to HER and MY UTERUS/SHOULDER/CERVIX/TOE, we know everything about everything else times infinity.
maria from nj saysAugust 22, 2009 at 12:17 am
Thanks for photographing my next husband. And now exactly where do I go to pick him up? Well, my only husband!
habanerogal saysAugust 22, 2009 at 1:05 am
Sexy sox and just for the record there is a distinct lack of wedding band on his hand. Also he has piano player fingers perhaps it is Billy Joel in disguise.
Carol saysAugust 22, 2009 at 1:59 am
Do you think he has matching underwear?
Know it All saysAugust 22, 2009 at 12:58 pm
Maybe he’s a Red Sox fan?
Well Read Hostess saysAugust 23, 2009 at 11:27 am
A few things:
1) Red socks might as well say SEX because any man confident enough to wear them is sexy.
2) Red socks might as well say “sucks” because any man arrogant enough to think he can pull off red socks sucks.
3) I can’t decide.
4) #2 Philly: WAY more Rahm Emmanuel than Arlen Specter unless I am even older than I thought. Which is totally possible.
Kim @ What's That Smell? saysAugust 23, 2009 at 5:19 pm
Here’s my whole problem with this….
I named my new washer and dryer set Lucy and Ethel…and they are RED. Coincidence?
Yeah, totally not relevant.
I really believe that in the dark when he got dressed he thought the socks were brown and was trying to hide his embarrassment. They just don’t go with the tie.
Jason saysAugust 23, 2009 at 6:33 pm
Oh, how I love this story. It’s kind of like when you mouth “olive juice” it looks like “I love you.” Try that one next time.
The socks would be a deal breaker for me, too.
amy saysAugust 23, 2009 at 10:23 pm
Hubby used to own a pair of woolen RED socks. We teased him mercilessly for years. Then I finally threw them out 🙂
Guy must be quite the character to wear them with a SUIT!
Dark Eyes saysAugust 24, 2009 at 12:00 am
Oh Gaud, I love it, a classic to say the least, more like something my friend R. would do after the tequila dust settles….. I miss the city, plan on living vicariously through your blog!!!