I once had a pair of red shoes I loved. They were the most expensive shoes I've ever owned (though they cost less than $100). I bought them at Nordstrom's.
|Similar to these but those are not my feet.|
so don't get yourself all worked up,
Not long after I became a newspaper editor, I wore the red shoes to work with a navy blue dress. I looked goooooood.
But apparently the red shoes looked a little too good.
As I walked across the office toward the publisher's desk, I noticed he was staring at something, and that something was my feet in the red shoes. I swear he was undressing my feet!
"I've always loved red shoes," he crooned as I approached.
I felt naked. Harassed. Grossed out.
But I could see in his eyes that he didn't want to suck on my toes. No, he wanted to kiss and fondle the shoes. Is there such a thing as shoe porn?
And it wasn't my fault. They were just red shoes.
I didn't like the stare, so I never wore the red shoes again.
Infinities of red shoe love,