"Really," I said, absolutely unsure of where this was going. The only thing I remembered about that character worried me, for I am not the type to shriek, "SHUT. UP!"
"Yes," New Co-Worker-Who-Has-Known-Me-Four-Hours explained, "Someday you'll blossom like a flower."
...I'm not sure if that was an awkward compliment or a clever insult. I think I answered with something noncommittal like, "Hmm" and went back to my box-slashing.
Speaking of box-slashing, I've got to get some new shoes for work because clunky-heeled black boots simply aren't working for me. They look odd with khakis and the heels get caught on ladder rungs. To achieve this goal, I found myself in Target staring blankly at the shoe racks, which were messy piles that one had to vigourously scavange. Can you say eeew? - the only thing that can get me to dig through mountains of tangled accessories and clothing while surrounded by some STELLAR specimans of humanity is a Versace sample sale; at least the human masses are perfumed rather than reeking of natural odors. I had been led to this desperate act by the complete lack of suitable footwear anywhere else in the mall. (I already can sense my first mistake; looking at Oakridge was sure to be a waste of time.)
I don't want to spend a lot of money on these work-shoes, because they are going to take a lot of physical abuse. They probably need to be flat (ugh!) or kitten heeled (ugly!) because chunkier heels or stilettos are going to get caught in ladder rungs and cardboard piles. They cannot be tennis shoes (drat) but they must be closed-toe.
If anyone has any suggestions, I am desperate.
Meanwhile, let me go back to staring at the masses of cheap leather shoes. LEATHER UPPERS! the boxes proclaimed in bright bold letters. Cheap nasty rubbery plastic soles! was wisely left off of the marketing.
I am simply perplexed by the appeal of mass marketers.