Yes, I had another adventure out and about on Saturday night. This time it was dinner and a film. The less said about the film the better—it was the narratively bankrupt Hardcore Henry. Dinner preceded this at the kind of place that’s a bit too high-class for my liking, a French restaurant. In northern Nevada. Yep.

And once again, as happens so often in this town, I was initially identified as female. I can only guess that it’s the hair: I’m rather tall, so I wouldn’t really mistake me for female. But I suppose I should be pleased that I might be seen that way. Even if it causes laughs and sneers from others when it happens.

On an aside, this restaurant was also playing host to a lot of pre-prom dinners that evening. And no one else seemed to get the joke when I said I thought I was caught in a Disney film. The dresses have seemingly gotten more princessy over the years.

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