ATTN: White Coats Cause Racial Blindness

Some men have a cherried up Mustang that they keep polished in their garage, waiting for that one special day to take it out for a spin. Some women have that special pair of stilettos that they only dust off when they really want to wow. Me, I have a white coat that I got for $20 from Kohls that I only wear when I'm feeling like not sitting or leaning on walls and walk around with my hands stretched out to the sides because I don't want to get it dirty. I call this signature move "The Show Stopper," and boy does it impress.

At first, I thought it was The Show Stopper that caused all the stares that I received today. I don't blame people for staring. I'd stare too if I saw someone appear as if they wished they were a bird and wanted to fly away. In other instances, I stopped traffic as I was crossing streets. I guess its some kind of traffic signal?

After my arms got tired, and a becoming a little meek from the attention, I decided to just hold my breath and walk like a normal person. Worst comes to worse, I can always get it dry-cleaned, right? But the stares just kept coming. I was confused. Then people started asking questions... all day. Random men just flocked to me like vultures with sights out for the next kill. Not men I'd normally want to talk to, but men nonetheless. I was riding on the bus on the way home tonight, with probably a big goofy grin on my face because I was recalling something funny, when this Toadstool sat next to me. My grin instantly disappeared.

"Hi my name is Warren." We shook hands. I then went into my backpack and used my antibacterial gel. (I wish that amongst all the crap they taught me in grade school, that they actually could've taught us something useful like not shaking hands with strangers. I'll be sure to teach my kids that.)
"Hi, I'm Meera," I replied, annoyingly.
"What's that?" He drew in closer, with one hand to his ear. "You said Maryanne?" He pretended to lean in to better hear me but instead took a gaping look at my breast region.
"Yea sure. Lets go with that." I'm buttoning up my coat as I'm saying that. Beginning to pack my things. I checked my pockets to make sure he didn't have magical fingers that could've stolen the five bucks in my wallet. (Another thing to teach the kids.) I press the stop button.
"So what's your nationality if I don't mind you asking."
"Indian."
"Oh, I find you stunning. Absolutely stunning..." His voice trailed off as the bus stopped, where I proceeded to get off 15 blocks too early to get away from the breast monger.

As I'm walking these 15 blocks with a 20 lb backpack and a gym bag over my shoulder. A couple of skateboarders passed by, during which time one of them asked me "Yo you Native or somethin'?" "No," I said. I kept walking. A couple blocks later, I pass a bar. All the fart (oops I mean frat) boys outside with their beers almost instantaneously waved and shouted "Hola!" (No surprise there as a group of 10 couldn't possibly make up a complete brain quite yet.) I kept walking.

Granted it was dark, but damn. It must be the coat. The whiteness of it visually confused the onlookers somehow. Maybe it was the light reflecting off of it and into my face or something? No, that couldn't be. It was 9pm. Sun was already set. With the breadth of scientific knowledge I retain in my brain, I still cannot formulate a proper hypothesis. I think I should submit my story to Unsolved Mysteries and have them take a crack at it.