Not for sale

I went for a walk with a friend of mine, and on our way back a man stops us. This in itself is odd and uncomfortable but it gets worse. He wants to buy my shoes. Now these are a cheap pair of boots that are falling apart at the seams- a missing buckle here, a hole in the leather there, a loose heel on this one, a faulty zipper on that one. I tell him I’m afraid I can’t part with them, and we continue walking. Then he stops us again to make another offer. He’ll give me fifty dollars for them because he really needs them for a costume. I jokingly say that I don’t think they’re the right size. He insists that he’ll make it work. I once again tell him that I’d rather keep my shoes, thanks, and again we part ways. (Side note: I actually bought these boots for a costume, but they work for everyday wear. I also only paid about two dollars for them so at least if I had taken this guy up on his offer, I would’ve made a decent profit.) 

This entire encounter was very uncomfortable, but I’m bothered by the fact that neither my friend nor I bothered to ask what the costume was (though I rather doubt it was for a costume at all). I suppose it will have to be one of life’s great mysteries. 

V.

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