A teenage boy with a Mohawk sat across from me, sneering. I’d seen that look before. Why was it a problem to knit in public?“My grandma knits.”I ignored him.“So what are you making, Grandma?” Mohawk’s voice was ugly.I arched my eyebrow. “A cashmere cock ring. Your grandma ever knit one of those?”The kid’s eyes grew wide, and he suddenly became very interested in a four-year-old issue of Teen Vogue.