Remember in 9th grade world history class when your teacher explained to you that contrary to what popular culture shows you today, being fat in the 1500s was actually a sign of being wealthy and upper-class? I've realized what the 2011 version of being fat is: uncomfortable shoes.
Having spent most of my time at the Statehouse today running meaningless errands, I looked down at my extremely comfortable, albeit bland, shoes and realized that my feet would have committed suicide if I wore the 4-inch pumps that many of the young, perky lobbyists and lawyers wear. It's easy to wear fabulous stilettos when all you do is sit in them all day and occasionally saunter over to the ladies room to powder your nose. When your job consists of walking to CVS to buy 12-packs of Diet Cokes in 90 degree heat and delivering printed out emails with post-its attached (the trees! think of the trees!) it becomes a priority to have comfortable shoes. If you have a job where the most walking you do is to your chauffered Towne car, kudos to you. You've made it. Great. Why don't Choo stop flaunting your $4000 shoes in our faces? Come on!
Even though there may be a hint of jealousy there, I know that us lowly serfs will have an advantage if life turns into a scene from Saw 5 or whatever number they're on. Not only will I have the practical shoes to make a dash from the serial killer, but I'll have the cardiovascular strength that my pampered counterpart lacks from sitting around eating bon-bons all day admiring their Manolos. Score: Serfs 1, Royals 0.
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