I guess a funeral is as good a reason as any for a girl to go shopping and buy a new pair of shoes. Or at least, that’s my excuse for making the expenditure I had planned for next week happen today instead.
I have been needing — okay, wanting — to get a new pair of dress shoes that I can wear to work. Unfortunately, none of the current members of my collection are suitable to wear in a foodservice establishment except the ugly ones I wore all summer that make my feet smell. And since vanity trumps comfort when it comes to me, I needed to find a pair of black close-toed close-heeled dress shoes.
So I went to the one store that would get me into the least amount of trouble: DSW. For those of you that don’t have the luxury of having one of these in your neighborhood, it’s a mecca of shoes — all brand name, without the hefty price tag. I’m sure that these shoes are all closeouts or something, but a good shoe is a good shoe.
I wandered around, trying on the shoes that fit my criteria and my taste and I found a pair that were exactly what I wanted and proceeded to the check-out while making a mental note to return next week to see if the super cute ones I saw in the clearance section are still there.
The girl asked if I wanted to be on their frequent buyer program (you get a $25 gift card for every $250 you spend), so of course I said yes. I filled out the little form, handed it back to her, and went on my merry way. Time of purchase: 7:35 pm.
I stopped at Target and picked up a few more things for my trip, returned home and checked my e-mail. Among the collection, an e-mail from DSW. Received: 7:48 pm.
Welcome to the information age. I wonder what else they know about me by now.