Waiting in the Shell parking lot for the shifty mechanic to repair my flat tire... I say shifty because he charged me ten dollars more than he charged Tom for the exact same service three months ago. When I questioned him, he spouted a lengthy list of testosterone-laden car vocabulary and my eyes glazed over. It was a total cliche. I could have argued the point, but I had just spent eight hours arguing with fifteen-year-olds and my feet hurt, so I went and sat, ankles crossed, on the bench to wait like a good little lady.
I realize it's a rough transition, but... While we're talking about heels and aching feet, I would like these shoes and an occasion that requires them, please. Thank you.