And they're calorie-free!

A lovely person was working in an adjoining department, filling in for one of the regular receptionists. She's very nice and good at her job and if she didn't look so dratted lovely a mere fifteen minutes after giving birth, I would like her a lot.

No, seriously. Her baby is practically fresh-squeezed and mama is already back into size -2 jeans. Gah. These people are lucky I let them live.

Anyway, after catching a glimpse of her, I had to have a quick word with her. She was chatting with another lovely person, Kristin of reception fame herself, and I approached. Ever courteous, these ladies allowed me to interrupt and I said to this young lady these respectful and caring words:

The only reason I haven't knocked you down and stolen those shoes is they
wouldn't fit me.

She understood.

What is it about shoes?
I have resisted their siren song for for far too long. So this is my plan.

For every ten pounds I lose, I get to buy a new pair of shoes. Okay, not these. That would be ridiculous. And I'd have to sell a kidney, fer chrissakes. But I get something pretty.

I can hear them, calling my name. Oh, yes. The sweet siren song of stiletto shoes.

Who really needs two kidneys?