Shoes

It was a new radio station that was doing open hiring.

Meg, of course, just wanted company. She didn't want me to get the job. She wanted it all for herself. But she just couldn't do these big events alone. Well, it made me feel important, and I didn't care anyway.

I asked for a day off from work and got it easily enough. The hard part was wearing the black suede pumps. I had bought them years ago for some fancy party.

I must have purchased them in a hurry, not even noticing that they made my feet sore. But they looked good. So the quest for beauty again wins out over quality of life.

I dressed in a maroon suit and skirt, pantyhose and these awful shoes. I played with my gold hoop earrings as I waited for Meg to swing by and pick me up. She came by, music blaring, windows down, and immediately I felt immersed into her life.

We went to the meeting, which included a lot of talking by management to a group of forty or so people who were taking notes. All looked very professional.

Of course, I took a look at their shoes, and thought to myself that no one had nicer shoes than mine.

Then we stood in line with our applications. This whole time my shoes were out to get me.

We tempted fate even more by going to the mall afterwards and buying some fast food and sundaes as well as doing some heavy shopping.