Context

The problem was context. I stood there in front of the cash register, my face flushed crimson, my selected items combining with my attire to leave an impression that was, admittedly in this instance, totally accurate."Nice shirt," Dorbin commented. That was the clerk's name. His name tag said so.Me? I blushed even more, the redness creeping down my chest. I'd been told to wear my peasant blouse