It’s always an adventure (to put it diplomatically) when walking with a Hello Kitty fanatic. Usually they look at my wife, then look at me bravely smiling and give that sympathetic look — tears beginning to well up in their eyes at the pure injustice of it all — which is reserved for the truly unfortunate beings of the world; small kids starving in Africa and me.
Then there are the times when I am forced out on my own with some Hello Kitty item in hand and have to face the unapproving wrath reserved for serial killers and terrorists on the nation’s most wanted list.
So when Not That Kind of Girl decided to parade around as a Hello Kitty fanatic as an experiment, I instantly felt sympathy for her.