'OH MY GOD! I USED TO WORK WITH YOU ABOUT 10 YEARS AGO! THE ONE THING I REMEMBER ABOUT YOU IS THAT YOU HAD THE SOFTEST ARMS IN THE WORLD! [Feels my arm] THEY'RE STILL REALLY SOFT! WELL DONE! YOU SHOULD MAKE MONEY OUT OF THOSE!'
In an evening of peculiar observations about my person, I was standing in the pub with Mrs G – both of us were wearing black, coincidentally both sporting a puffed sleeve, Mrs G with a small ruffle around the neckline of her top – and a man told us we looked like Elizabethan lesbians.
It displays a kind of creativity I admire in an unflattering personal comment.