A couple of weeks ago, the following conversation took place between a colleague and me. For the record, he is far and away the best dressed fellow in my office. Granted, given the general shlubbiness of the competition (self definitely included), it sounds like it’s not saying much. But even in an office full of dandies, he’d be sure to be among the dandiest.
He: Hey, I meant to ask you where you got those shoes you were wearing yesterday.
Me: At the thrift store. They were $35.00.
He: No, I mean the brown ones with orange stripe on the sole (Ed. note: I was especially pleased – though not surprised – that he noticed the orange stripe. It’s what totally made the shoes hot.)
Me: Yeah, I got those at the thrift store. They were $35.00, brand new and fit me perfectly.
He: Seriously? Fuck you.
If I never wear these shoes again, I’ve already gotten far, far more than $35 dollars worth of pleasure from them. But of course I will wear them, since they are super-cute.
In related news, my new eyeglasses were declared “sick” by the same colleague. This is apparently a high compliment among the youngs.