Takes one to know one.
I'm not the kind of person that people fall in love with immediately. Rather, I'm the kind of person most people dislike until I slowly and deliberately wear them down. Then they love me. Because they're too tired to resist me.
When my college girlfriends and I recalled our first week of school and our first impressions of each other, the pattern held. Stuck up, standoffish, shy. My first-impression self is not always the best representation of who I am, but I can't help it. It takes a while for people to warm up to me, and that's fine. I'm wary of people who are too much too soon, who want to be everyone's best friend right away.
Today was the first day of spring in New York City. I woke up at 2:30 (that's pm), collected the troops and got our bagel and coffee routine underway. 5th Ave in Park Slope has a few resident hobos (is that politically correct? I'm unsure), one of whom is a lady with a huge dent in her face that shouts to passersby about her desperate need for a hot dog.
"HI HANDSOME! CAN YOU BUY ME A HOT DOG? OR A BURGER FROM MCDONALD'S?" she shouted as we walked to Dunkin Donuts. We had failed to warn our gentleman friend of her presence and the fact that she was a force to be ignored, not reckoned with. "YOU!" she shouted, directing her rage at me, "YOU'RE DRESSED LIKE A HOOKER!"
This is not a way to talk to someone who could potentially buy you a hot dog, but I'm sure she'll warm up to me. Everyone always does.
That crazy lady sounds like she's cut from the same cloth as your dad: "Where the hell do you think you're going in THAT get-up?"
You know, a lot of people tell me that they thought I was bitchy too when they first met me. Including your sister. But, once they get to know me, they learn to appreciate that bitchy side of me. Maybe that's why I liked you from the start, like bitchy kindred spirits.