Nice feet

I was minding my own business walking through Union Station today when a guy I walked by says to me,

Nice toes.

Really? I mean, they are freshly painted Spanish red and all in preparation for my trip tomorrow, but…really? Feet are just gross, and in all honesty, mine aren’t really all that attractive. Oddly enough, however, getting this complement happens to me more often than one would like to believe. These toes must look pretty damn good.

This odd occurrence reminds me of a time in my 20’s when I was out one night in Hartford. Random literally said to me “you have beautiful feet.” I’m sorry, did you just say that I have beautiful feet? How could you not laugh at that. If that doesn’t call for a phhhhhhhh, I don’t know what does. He then proceeded to analyze the dimensions of my feet and actually asked me to take my shoes off so he could look closer. Oddly, I remember doing it. I mean, I had to play along with it at this point, it was just so absurd. Talk about a foot fetish.

So now that my toes are freshly painted Spanish red, I am ready to set sail to Espana. Hasta luego and so long DC. Will try to live blog if at all possible. Hold down the fort for me while I’m gone.



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