About five years ago I attended a party that a friend was throwing in celebration of her new clothing store launch in downtown Los Angeles.
I spotted the host off to one side and walked over to say hello. As I approached, she looked around, then behind me.
“Did you come alone?” She asked in a high pitched voice, the end of the sentence curling up into an extra-squiggly question mark. “Yep,” I cheerfully replied, holding up a pair of neon-yellow drop crotch trousers to my waist. She grinned. “You’re such a lone wolf! I love it.” She touched my arm in a way that maybe she thought to be conspiratorial before turning to walk away.