The Bee's Knees

A funny thing happened to me today.  Tonight I went to dinner with a lovely new friend, near St-Paul.  I had some sort of goats cheese on toast which was quite nice. Between dinner and dessert I went to the washroom. ( where the toilet had no seat....Paris bathrooms = not the best ever ) On my way back  this old man at his table says something to me, while looking at my feet. I of course have no idea what he said,I assumed he likes my shoes, though this seemed unlikely. I stumbled through my " No parlez Francais" and his companion (wife?) good naturedly says:

"He says he likes your knees."

"My knees?" I laughed.

"Yes, your knees"

I couldn't have been more surprised. I never really liked my knees. 

I remember when I was younger, maybe 15. At that age I hung around with boys. I never understood girls mostly. Guys were simple. They didn't talk much and when they did, they were direct. I suppose I liked the attention too. Girls were tricky and devious and would do mean things for no reason that I could see. If a guy was a jerk, even if I did not agree with it, at least I understood his motives. I spent a whole summer between Elementary and high school with those boys, who were a few years older than me and soon they didn't think about me as a girl. They accepted that I had no interest in them sexually and I became one of the guys. They spoke and treate me like one of them mostly. And I still recall one of them talking about girls, and their knees for some reason.

"...see you have almost too much knee, while so-and-so has no knees at all...." 

I looked down at my knees. That guy had no intention of hurting my feelings, he was just talking. I was 15 years old. Of course I was conscience of my body and my body compared to other girls. I accepted that I wasn't as skinny as most.I had never considered knees as something to be liked or disliked; good or bad.  They were just necessary. Fat knees? Geez.

So here was this old man, liking my knees. In fact I don't think he ever looked up to my face. Its so strange to be liked for a body part you had long since overlooked. 

So here they are,my awesome knees.

Thanks sweet little man.

                                            Perhaps you were drunk but you still made my day.

As I laughed at strangeness of the situation, this man staring at me knees....

He slowly reached his fingers toward one of my knees. To give me time to move away, or because he was too drunk to move fast, I'm not sure. I let him. I'm not sure why. I think I was too amused to be offended or creeped out. 

He then tickled my knee and laughed like a child. It was quite cute.