Givenchy Me Enough Rope to Hang Myself

Okay, maybe I'll have one more regret about this past month, and it's related to this box. What you need to understand is that when I first saw the absolutely most perfect pair of gladiator sandals EVER that came in it, I had no idea they were high-end designer brand. I swear.

Then again, I should have known. They were in the window of this Georgetown store where the interior design is a pretentious blend of Soho boutique and Russian gulag. It was so grey and feng shui and spartan you just know it's frequented by Hedge Fund wives with sleek blond ponytails named Marissa who develop a rash in the presence of man-made fabrics and garish colors.

I expected the salesman to be an arrogant prat named Vlad from some formerly communist Eastern European republic, but it turns out Eric is from Mt. Vernon, Missouri, which is somewhere near Springfield. Anyway, Eric was extremely friendly and personable. And he told me that the absolutely most perfect gladiator sandals EVER were an affordable......

Ahhhhhh, I'm not even gonna tell you!!! Those of you who've been reading this blog faithfully are aware of my footwear issues, and how I suffered major guilt pangs over spending a couple hundred bucks on sneakers a few years ago. So after slipping my feet into those buttery, impeccably designed, ergonomically superior, devastatingly perfect gladiator sandals, as Eric cooed his approval, I couldn't help blurting out, "After you've worked in Africa, it's hard not to think that you could pay school fees for half a dozen kids for what these shoes cost!"

Well, that got Eric's attention. I guess he must be a store co-owner, because after asking what kind of work I do in Africa, he offered a modest humanitarian discount as an added incentive. It was tempting, but I still knew it was totally irresponsible for me to spend that much money for a pair of sandals. And it was morally wrong, and foolhardy when I'm not exactly flush with cash.

And then Eric asked what I used to do before I went to Africa. I told him I'd worked for NPR. WHOA, NELLY!!! That got me an even bigger discount, because Eric was rendered starstruck by those three magic little letters. He wound up whacking a third off the cost of those sandals, because he just lurrrrrrvvvves NPR and thinks I deserve the Nobel for doing what I do to help the world, and junk like that!

And the thing is, even with the discount the damned sandals STILL cost more than I have ever spent on footwear in my entire life, and as I stood at the counter with my breath coming in shallow gasps and my head spinning, I realized I was being reckless and shortsighted, and as much as I loved the sandals, if you saw them you wouldn't be able to figure out why in God's name they cost so much. And then he brought out the freakin' Givenchy box, and it all made sense, except for the fact that I should have run screaming into the streets instead of completing that transaction.

But at least I now own the absolutely most perfect pair of gladiator sandals EVER, and the upmarket box they came in, which I will eventually have to position over a heating grate and LIVE IN one day because of my spending habits.

D'ya think Eric would let me bunk in his basement if it ever came to that???