I was going through emails this morning and found this lovely lil’ one.  Melissa from (I presume) NYC writes:

Were you walking on 1st Avenue near 12th [Monday] night?  Wearing an orange shirt?  I saw a guy that looks like you.  If that WAS you - you have skinny legs.

Well, hello Melissa!  Nice to meet you too!  Yes, that probably was me, as I was walking down 1st on Monday night and rocking my orange t-shirt (one of my favorites).  But I have to take umbrage with the "skinny legs" remark.  While my legs may appear skinny, I assure you they are not.  I have great legs.  Actually, an ex of mine said that the sexiest thing about me was my legs and often remarked how "powerful" they were.  So maybe you had a little too much to drink and couldn’t tell from your brief glance, but my legs are great.  Of course, the ex that said that about my legs is now in prison.  Which I feel kinda bad about, since I should have noticed the warning signs - what with her directing the word "sexy" at me and all.  But the psychologist said that some people are just born arsonists.  So that offers me some comfort.  That and my powerful legs.   

[On second thought, is it kind of sad that the thing my ex found most sexy about me was my legs?  Not my eyes, shoulders, or bird, but my legs?  Not even, like, my presence or charisma?  My legs?]

[...]

[This has been one painful trip down memory lane.  Thanks, Melissa.  Thanks a lot.  You know what - I didn't see you, but you have fat legs.  How does that taste?  Bittersweet, I bet.  Bittersweet.]