..into town for the first time in…oooh a decade or a so.
I've got scars. The bad ones are old, the more recent (last year) ones are indistinguishable from the old (15-20+ years ago)
I'd psyched myself up that everything would be fine, no-one would notice or at least say anything. However. Literally the First Person I Saw (bus driver) felt that it was appropriate to make a comment/ask me questions.
As soon as I got home I made sure I had a cardigan to take with me for the next time I went out. It's not as easy as I thought. Was I just unlucky, or is this just how it is?