If you can't say anything nice....

What is it about me that makes people so determined to knock me down a peg or two? I'm actually quite happy with the peg I'm on, thank you very much. If anything I could probably stand to do a bit of peg climbing. Despite this, complete strangers seem to be clamouring to put me down on a regular basis. For example, on Saturday a man at a party asked me how old I was and, when I told him, replied "And you're still dressing like that?". Why shouldn't I wear a Mr Men print skirt if I want to? It's not hurting anybody, and my tongue is firmly in my cheek, so why feel the need to tell me that at 26 years old I'm already mutton dressed as lamb? Worse than this mildly vexatious encounter was the man on the bus yesterday who, when I ignored his rude and drunken attempts to engage in conversation with me, leaned in to about two inches from my face and told me that I was "F***ing stuck up for an ugly bird.". Charming. Why does an ugly bird have less right to be stuck up than a pretty one, anyway? That's just uglyist. For all he knew I could be stuck up due to my vast fortune, aristocratic standing or masterful understanding of the history of Mah-Jong. Or maybe I behaved as if I was better than him because I was, in fact, better than him. Not being the one falling over drunk with my flies undone does tend to give me a feeling of superiority. Anyway, I'm choosing to ignore the drunken losers and focus instead on the old man yesterday who looked me up and down in my 1940s-esque outfit, chuckled and told me "Ooh you take me back a few years!". Happy to oblige, sir!