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