Update: LGBTerrriffic!

I wore my shirt to Baltimore.


No one gave me the stink-eye. No one hit on me, either. I actually almost made it through the day entirely without a single comment.

And then I went to the Barnes & Noble on the next pier. I wandered around, bought Young House Love‘s book (finally), and when checking out, the cashier dude casually commented, “I like your shirt.” And I smiled and said, “Thanks!”, and then I told him how awesome that B&N is (seriously, it is super amazing), and there were a few more words exchanged, and then I bounced out with my book and my smile, because someone liked my shirt. The very shirt that I felt anxiety over wearing! Such vindication!

So the moral of the story is: Wear the damn shirt. People probably won’t give you shit, and hey, they might even appreciate it.

Thank you, Inner Harbor Barnes & Noble Cashier Man. You did more for me than just take my money. :)

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