February 15, 2012

Oxford Heels

It's a weird day today--sunshine, rain, and cloud. This inspires me to write a badly written story! As you all know, I'm a teaching assistant for communications history. There are more than 200 students in that class. I am there to help lighten the workload for my professor. What I do is facilitate study sessions, quizzes, and exams as well as correct and input grades. My work isn't particularly difficult (though inputting grades are a pain in the butt) because there is another assistant, Bev.

The very last day I saw Bev and Professor L was during Finals week. We had to go and facilitate the final. Anyway, Bev brought a pair of purple oxford heels. She said that she had a broadcast journalism final so she brought those to wear.

As Bev, Professor L, and I left the communications building after hours of frustration (because we messed up on the scantrons), Bev asked me to hold onto her heels while she looked for an umbrella. Professor L saw those heels, he said, "In my time, we called those--". Abruptly, Bev said, "I know, these are hooker heels." He laughed and said something along the lines of, "No. I was going to say, the boys and I called those fuck-me heels."

To me, they look like normal oxford heels--except in purple. I guess to other people, it's something else. I will never see what they both saw in those. What did they see that I didn't?

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