Setting: Standing around the coffee machine (our equivalent of the water cooler) one morning this week.
Who's there: J, another woman colleague, and me
J. & I were complimenting A.W.C. on her interesting tuxedo blouse (worn well with a black pants suit and great turquoise beads). The conversation stayed on fashion.
In strides our customer (the same one who was giving J a hard time about her spicy striped feet). I don't think I've ever seen him move at less than 50 mph. The man has an intensity about him - one you'd expect from a Marine who gives Mr. Clean a run for his money in the image department. He stopped to say hello to the three ladies in the hallway, and overheard that we were talking clothes.
"What color are your socks, this morning, sir?" I asked.
Not missing a beat, he pulled up his United States Marine Corps issue green trouser leg, shows us his sock, and replies, "Long and black."
"I don't wear socks when I'm not in uniform," he continues. The only other socks he wears, apparently, are short athletic socks with running shoes.
"Have a good day, Ladies."