The horror, the horror |
Then last night I dreamt I met Emma Stone. I asked her about her open letter to some magazine called "Spring Look", wherein she asked a pair of shoes out on a date.
We had a good laugh about that, and she showed me a purse she got from that magazine (it was a dark brown tin box with circles on it - hey it's a dream, just roll with it), then she showed me her shoes. She was wearing them. They don't look like the shoes in the picture here, they were a beigey-tan with a round, closed toe and a low heel. In my dream, she was the same size as me, so she let me try them on. I tried on the right shoe to see if my bunion would feel comfortable in them. My foot was very, very, comfortable but then I bent my foot to walk and I felt the old familiar pinch on my toes. No matter, I thought, that should go away once I have my surgery. For some reason I felt the need to suck up, so I gushed about how comfortable they were. Then I asked how much she paid for them. "$7,000", she said.
I asked her if she was nuts. Then I added, "I understand you can afford this sort of thing, but didn't you stop to wonder if maybe $7,000 is way too much for a pair of shoes, no matter how much money you may have?" She agreed it was excessive, but she wanted them and they're so comfortable. She wasn't insulted by my reaction, and we talked about how these shoes look like they're really worth $100 (although in my mind, I would have paid $200 for them - they were that comfortable). I told her when she gets tired of them, she could always send them to me.
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