I realized the other day that I am no longer a knitter. I am now a Knitter. Capital K.
I was sitting in traffic in my car, jamming (with the windows up) to some music, when I noticed that the girl in the car next to me was wearing a really interesting hat. At the distance I was, I couldn’t easily tell if it was knit with an interesting knit pattern, or if it had been crocheted, so I was staring intently to see if I could make out the details. In any case, the hat was gorgeous.
After I’d be scrutinizing her for a little while, I noticed that she was looking back at me, and realized that I had been staring at her. Incredibly embarrassed, I looked away really quickly and started laughing. But then I thought that if I was her, and saw someone look at me, and then look away and laugh, I’d feel really self conscious all day long–wondering if there was something weird in my hair or if I had a huge piece of spinach stuck in my teeth or something. I wanted to communicate to her that I wasn’t trying to make her uncomfortable, but sitting at a traffic light I couldn’t very well write her a little note! (Although I wish I could have… I would have loved to find that pattern!)
So I looked back at her, hoping to be able to convey that I wasn’t making fun of her. She was still looking at me, and so I acted without thinking (or without thinking anything beyond not wanting her to think I was doing anything but admiring her hat.) So I did what seemed natural.
I winked at her.
The traffic light changed and I pulled away as fast as I could.