““He jolted upright and grabbed my foot. “How are you doing that?” He inspected my feet. “Oh my god!” Holding my foot up, he said, “How are you doing that with these sausage toes?” “Hey! I like my toes.” “They’re adorable, but they look like they belong on a fat toddler.” We were both laughing, but I felt vulnerable, so I sat up. “Let me see your feet.” “I have beautiful feet,” he said and it was true. The bastard could have been a foot model. “Damn you.” “Come here, let me see those little Jimmy Deans.” “Leave my toes alone!””
