Second hand shame

"Were you avoiding us last night at the bar? Why?"

It seemed quite stupid, in retrospect. She'd been allowed and encouraged to dress en femme at work. Makeup tips, tips to avoid harassment, et cetera. But there was always one more thing to be ashamed of, if you put your mind to it.

"I ... well, I wanted to enjoy a cigar, too. It's a small celebration. I don't drink. But second hand smoke. And it's not very feminine. And after a while, clubs feel too crowded. Even slower paced ones."

They thought for a bit. "You'll have to make it up to us. We know several cafes with outdoor seating. Your smoke will not bother us as much as drunken bragging."

"I couldn't. Don't feel you have to tolerate it."

"We'd like to. If you don't mind our occasional drinks." And it became a regular thing. They even joined in on special occasions, but they always working their way through similar needless mental hangups over a good meal. With time, not just dinner, but mid-work lunch.