You're good, good, good

Yesterday I realized with delight that I didn't have any wintery boots and that I really need wintery boots. It gets very cold here and I don't want to catch anything. I had to go shopping.

At the store I was accosted by the saleswoman as I tried on a pair. They were sexy, in the sense that my legs don't have a lot of shape and the boot imposed shape: exaggerated ankle, thin calf. I looked like a hooker.

"I look like a whore," I said, scrutinizing.

"You don't look like that," the saleslady said. "What's wrong with sexy?"

"What's wrong with sexy?" I repeated.

"You will turn heads with those boots," she said, touching my shoulders.

"I will turn heads with these boots," I repeated, standing confidently.

"You are going to buy these shoes and you are going to wear them like a lady," she encouraged.

I did.

The first thing Boyfriend said when I showed them to him was, "Do you work on credit? How much for a blow job?"