Reverse "Annie Hall"

For some reason, this morning I was feeling especially, hopelessly, perhaps even a bit euphemistically New York. A brilliant plan to combine getting a croissant with going to a supermarket in the croissant-having strip mall didn't take into account rush-hour traffic, plus I wasn't entirely sure which freeway exit I wanted - not such an odd situation, perhaps, but in the moment it felt overwhelming. But I got there fine, parked in one of those slanted parking spots that are made for people who got higher than a C in physics but you get used to them, and went to sit outside amongst the fluffy dogs and coughing blond children while enjoying said croissant and a cappuccino.

While I'm not joking about the coughing, the overall vibe was very blond and wholesome. At one point I glanced over and saw the blondest and most wholesome scene I ever had (and I've spent a lot of time in Germany!), involving three generations of blonds and their Golden Retriever.

And then came the part this post's title comes from: Rather than imagining that I was being seen as a Hasid, I looked up and saw two more wholesome Californians heading into the supermarket I was about to go to, dressed like so. Which - as per the link - isn't out of the ordinary, given that there are Franciscan monks about. But for a moment I really did wonder if I was somehow Grammy Hall-ing a couple surfer dudes.