Shoes

I know a lady that had over a hundred pair of shoes.  I insisted she wear them or give them away to the homeless.  If you are going to live in the bushes, at least have nice shoes on I told her.  My friend started wearing different shoes every day.  She would have the most inappropriate shoes for every occasion.  She became sort of a fashionista because of her boldness with shoe selections.  She gained some fame, started using crack and became an affordable street whore with really funky shoes.  Fame continued to follow her but at a the rate of $15 dollars a trick.  She continued to buy shoes so at the end of about two years she looked ten years older, got hepatitis and now had two hundred pairs of shoes.  She built a home in the bushes with the shoe boxes.  She glued them all together and wrapped the whole thing in saran wrap.  Pretty nice digs for a street whore.  She was trying on a new pair of Payless Bogos when a movie producer  looking for a $15 quickie offered her an audition for a part as a strung out whore living in a box.  She did not go to the audition because she did not have the new audition shoes to wear.

It was my fault. She said as much in the suicide note.  She had nice legs, I just wanted to see her show off her legs with all those fine shoes.  At the funeral, we opened the foot end of the coffin for the viewing and not the head end.  It just seemed the right thing to do.  Her shoes were Dorothy like Red Slippers.