I got on the streetcar this afternoon and the only place to sit so that my right arm wouldn't be up against another person was in the back. This was dangerously close to a disheveled man with a full beard who was talking loudly to a man who was desperately untangling his ipod earphones, but I wanted to knit, and it wasn't too close, so I risked it.
Things were fine for a while, the headphone guy got up and moved, but the talker kept on talking to him. I avoided eye contact, of course. But then I hear it "is that knitting or crochet?"
"Knitting," I say.
"Yeah, crochet is different."
"Yes," I agree. And that was it.
I'm actually amazed that this guy and the one I mentioned a couple months ago know enough to see the difference. I guess they are from a different time, when their moms or grandmas knit.