Last week, I was picking up students from the airport for our second session, and one particular plane I was waiting for also contained a contingent of young Marines, in what the sci-fi books call "civvies" but which the Corps no doubt has an idiosyncratic term for, clearly looking for a handler, I mean superior. Of the dozen or so, nearly every single one took a couple steps towards me before correctly identifying me as Not A Marine. (I realized later this might have had something to do with the khakis and blue t-shirt I was wearing - equally it might have had something to do with my parents teaching me to stand up straight.)
At contra on Friday, an older woman I was talking me remarked that she could tell I was "obviously a dancer" from the way I moved, which I found amusing considering the students I teach and the fact that all my family I have almost certainly done the least dancing. (Once again, perhaps all those admonitions to stand up straight and not scuff my feet had some effect?)
I seem to be a person who looks like people. Perhaps I should have been an actor - or at least a stunt double?