You don't really want to know what strangers think of you

I will be the first to admit that I am often curious as to how I'm perceived by complete strangers. Maybe this is because I have a habit of making random observations about people, so I just assume everyone else does too.

Whether or not that's true, I gained valuable insight into all of this last Friday morning.

I was walking through Harvard Square on Friday, heading towards the T. Due to the recent barrage of weather, there was snow, slush and ice pretty much everywhere.

On the whole, Boston is pretty good about getting the snow cleared and making the city more or less traversable. It's not unusual, for instance, to see trucks carting snow out of the city (like this).

Sometimes, in their zealous plowing efforts, we end up with snow mountains.

I encountered one such mountain in Harvard Square.

It was at least 7 feet high and had made a small avalanche into the sidewalk, leaving three large snow boulders in the middle of the walkway.

I cannot stress enough that this was truly an impasse. There was no way to go around to the left because of the snow mountain, and no way to go around to the right, because there was a building. Never one to go backwards, I decided to work my way over the obstacle course using three small footholds that had been placed there by past adventurers.

As I crossed over to the other side, I looked up to find a large man laughing at me. He said something, which I didn't hear the first time around because I was too busy rocking out. Headphones removed, I asked him to repeat it.

He was barely able to contain himself, he was laughing so hard.

Then he said,

"Looks like you've still got a little tomboy in ya!"

So apparently, complete strangers think I look like a huge priss.

At least now I know.