Wearing yellow shoes today. Toms desert boots in pleather. They are quite yellow. They didn't look that yellow when I was in the house, but outside of it -- they're yellow.
They go quite nicely with the grey suit, actually. Very Spring.
That said, anything out of the ordinary in this office, and you can feel the stares. Wearing a light scarf a couple of years ago got a coworker talking to me about how he didn't 'have a problem with it', and that he could be very 'accepting'. Huh? I think he thought I was gay. A scarf means I'm gay? Your brain works like that?
Same thing is happening today. The Jehovah's Witness who retired but then didn't leave offered me this scowling smirk just now, that I must be one of those. I can feel the loathing.
No, I'm not gay, lady. They're just yellow shoes. In fact, I am comfortable enough in my own sexuality to not be afraid of yellow shoes, and what that might mean to someone like you.
Whatever. They're just shoes. Any meaning that carries for you is in your own head, and not a property of the shoes themselves. Think about that for a moment.