Fuck Me Pumps?

So, a couple of months ago, I decided I needed new shoes. I was looking for something brown-ish that I could pair with khakis if I had any quasi-casual job interviews. Because there’s a DSW a block from work, I stopped past one day on my lunch break and selected a cozy pair of leather slip-ons (these, if you’re interested).

I really – really – didn’t like them at first. I almost took them back and returned them. But as I broke them in, I began liking them more and more. In fact, they’re now my go-to shoes. Sorry, Skechers work boot.

Anyway, so my birthday was last month. Because I’m a DSW rewards member, I got a coupon for $15 off a purchase of more than $50. Because I’m almost completely unable to resist such coupons, and because I wanted a pair of these slip-ons in black, guess what I did?

Yep – I asked a coworker for a ride to DSW. Alas, a ride didn’t happen — work shit — and then I just said “Screw it!” went online, and ordered my shoes.

This was last week. When I left my part time job on Monday night (we actually got out around 11, which is sort of a miracle), I knew they’d have been delivered, and I was pretty jazzed to break them in the next day.

Seriously: if you ever told me I’d be jazzed about shoes, I would have laughed at you.

Anyway, I opened the brown box and say a black box inside that said Jones New York. And that was weird, because I was pretty sure the brand I’d ordered had been Carrera. And when I popped open the inner box’s lid, my first thought was, “Oh, damn, they’re brown!” My second thought, which was only milliseconds after the first thought, was, “I didn’t order pumps.”

I was moderately disappointed, but what the hell. I wore them to work the next day.

Okay, so, no, I didn’t. I called DSW the next morning, and the order was replaced, with the discounts I’d originally used applied to the order. My office boo chuckled: “I thought you’d at least get fuck me pumps.”

“What’d’ya call these?”

“Granny pumps.”

Well, whatever. I have a rule: if I’m ever in heels (hahahahahahaha fat chance), they count as “fuck me pumps.”

Later in the day I headed up to DSW to return the pumps.

“What’s wrong with them?” the clerk asked as she pulled the top off the box.

“I wanted them in black,” I replied dead-pan as she saw the heels. She grinned and said “Oh my!”

Long story short: because I returned the shoes in-store, I was refunded the sales tax I didn’t pay because I’d bought them online.

Fascinating right?

And in other news: today is this blog’s seventh anniversary. That is fascinating. Here’s to another seven years.

One thought on “Fuck Me Pumps?

  1. Hahaha, this is a great story! And I’m so proud of you for being a DSW rewards member. I’m always in line behind a man who says he’s not … but then, I just offer to “let him” use my card so I can get his points. ;)

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