my stolen sense of fashion strikes again

Sundays are usually kind of depressing to me, especially when on Monday you have to go to a real job. This was my second such Sunday in a long, long time, and I wanted to avoid the feeling of depression and head out for some fun. Dweebcentric agreed to meet me for a mid-afternoon showing of Volver at the local mall, but first I had to stop by DSW to get some higher heeled shoes. For someone on the shorter side, like me, it’s either buy really high shoes or get all your pants hemmed. I opted for shoes.

The one thing that always annoys me about DSW is that there are too many shoes to choose from. I’m not good at making decisions, so this is frustrating. I end up making several rounds, narrowing things down by style and color, then height, then price, then fit. It’s exhausting. But on Sunday I was particularly efficient, in and out of the store in 30 minutes or less, with the perfect pair of shoes – perfect because they were free. The cashier rang up my other purchases, but the shoes never made it on the bill. I was puzzled by my small bill and checked the receipt before I left the store. Spotting the problem, I tried to explain to the cashier what had happened, but he insisted my bill was right. Who am I to argue?

Later, before the movie began, I was telling Dweebcentric about my fantastic free shoes. As I went to describe exactly what I had bought, I happened to glance down at her shoes. My shoes. She was wearing my new shoes. Or I was wearing her shoes? Out of my thousands of choices of shoes I had, unbeknownst, chosen the exact same style as that of my good friend.

Figures.