When it comes to being stared at, I consider myself lucky. I don’t find people staring at me very much. Maybe it’s because I’ve retained a bit of what my college friends called “The Golda Walk,” where you basically walk around NYC looking like a badass when you’re really just a total nerd who happens to have broad shoulders.
But anyway, back to staring. I’m not used to it. So it was particularly weird when, one brisk October morning last week, I met up with a fellow coach at a cafe in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, and proceeded to get stared at by nearly everyone who came in or out of there. Read More Big Fat STARES And How To Deal With Them