One day a few years ago, just as I reached my flat, a young child looked at me, turned to their mother and said “Mommy, mommy, is that a boy or a girl?”, because my combination pony tail and facial hair confused them.
A few grown men have had the same problem, beginning a wolf-whistle when they saw me from behind only to abort part way through as they saw the front of my face.
Wolves don’t whistle though, at least cat’s actually call.
I get what you’re trying to do, but come on.
I have no idea what you think I'm trying to do, because "sharing relevant life stories" isn't something I'd expect to get this reaction.