For some reason, I have been remembering an amusing incident which happened to me many years ago, when I was about 28 years old.
You will have to remember, when hearing this, that I was (and still am) six foot three inches in height, had shortish, very dark hair (but don't now) and a fairly deep voice (still do - at the moment...).
I went around to a friend's house and he let me in for a cup of tea and a chat as he usually did. His father - a retired, Welsh undertaker - was sitting at the table, and I was introduced to him by name as we had never met before, though I had heard a lot about him. My friend had - in the past - expressed some concern when his father had unscrewed a coffin lid at his workplace to show him the corpse of a particularly beautiful young woman, but that maybe off the point for this story. Then again, maybe it isn't.
My friend went off to make some tea and toast, leaving me chatting to his father, and we talked of this and that, including what I did for a living, etc. etc. For about three-quarters of an hour, we all talked, then I stood up to leave, shaking the father's hand. He said he was very pleased to meet me and I let myself out.
A few days later, I bumped into my friend and as soon as he caught sight of me, began laughing uncontrollably. Eventually, he told me that after I had left the house, his father had said to him, "What a lovely woman that was."
The photo above is NOT me, by the way.