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It probably wasn't the shoes; it was the feet in the shoes.
Picture time.
OMG--that actually happened to me too!
A couple years ago I was at a Target store and a guy walked up to me with a digital camera and said "excuse me, would you mind taking your shoes off for me?"
Me:
Guy: I just want a picture. If you take them off for me I'll leave you alone.
The whole time, he was incredibly calm and didn't seem nervous--like he was asking for change for a dollar or something.
So I obliged him. If a picture of the insides of my shoes and my feet was enough to get him off my case, I figured it was worth it. I slipped them off, he took his picture, thanked me, and left. I was like but at the same time it could've been worse I guess.
My birks are certainly not the most attractive shoes out there, but different strokes for different folks I guess.
Knowledge is power. Power corrupts. Study hard. Be evil.
"I never said I wasn't a horrible person."--Me, almost daily
A couple years ago I was at a Target store and a guy walked up to me with a digital camera and said "excuse me, would you mind taking your shoes off for me?"
Okay, at this point we're just really going to need to see a photograph of your feet.
If you have to ask, it's probably better posted at www.fratching.com
I loved them as a kid because they didn't bind on me like the crappy-fitting cheapo-jeans my parents would buy me. Careful with that brush, lady. We're not all pervs.
Ugh, when my bookstore had a Vera Bradley kiosk in the nearby mall (I know, it didn't make any sense to me either) this guy who worked in the Food Court would come by every single fracking time I was there. He was OK, until he got creepy. He would come up and ask about sales, different purses, saying he was going to buy them for his girlfriend. So far, so good. Then the creepiness started,
Creepy Guy: I like your shoes. Can you take them off so I can see the inside?
Me: Um, no.
CG: I want to buy my girlfriend a pair.
You mean the girlfriend I'm pretty sure doesn't exist?? Hell no!
After a while he started asking when I came to work at the kiosk, when I got off work, my name etc. And every single time he would say, "Oh, are those new shoes?" when they were obviously very old and well-worn.
Finally I complained to the GM, saying I wasn't comfortable. Guess what he did? Not a damn thing. I was still stuck over there all the fracking time with this guy dropping by at least once a shift. Finally I told the GM I was going to have to go to the owner if he didn't do something, and that got me back in the bookstore full-time.
At least the creepy guy never masterbated in front of me though.
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