...but talk of clothing makes me very nervous. I remember coming down Broadway about 10 years ago in a cab. When we approach the Jockey underwear billboard, my middle eastern cab driver goes crazy talking about what prostitutes american women are, etc. etc. Then we hit 37th or 38th and stop at a light. A fashion model in a short skirt, portfolio in hand, crosses the street and the guy goes ape, screaming at her.
And all I could think, "These guys really, really don't like us." I guess I was proven right a couple years later.
Oh I believe it. The old gas station attendant used to ask my mother if I would like to get married. He was looking for a decent girl for his son *lol*