Keep the Worms from Tickling the Soles of Your Feet

Tax Day came and went, not with hair pulling and interminable amounts of time spent in line at the post office, for the last drop of the night, but in the shoe department of a local clothing boutique.

I went in with the intention of merely checking out the store – it’s two doors down from EB Games – but was unable to avoid the call of clogs, the flirtations of flipflops, the seduction of sneakers. Also, the huge sign that said SALE was kind of attractive.
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