Never in my life have I been bullied in such an obvious, cruel and disheartening manner. We have barely known each other for 12 hours and already you are subjecting me to mental and physical torture which I cannot bear. How is it possible that I have incurred your wrath within such a short space of time?
When I saw you there on the shelf I thought to myself, "Well, they're not the prettiest shoes in the world... in fact they're sinfully ugly and duller than dish water, but I bet they will be good companions on the lonely walk to work. We can be friends. We'll talk about how we're so glad we found each other, and at the end of a long day in silly heels, I'll slip you on and we'll make our way home safe in the knowledge that we get along so well."
But you didn't stand up to your end of the bargain did you? No. After one trip to the tube station I look like my heels have been attacked by rabid shrews with a grudge against the common foot. Me feet look like I'm harvesting my own personal bubble wrap crop. And it's all down to you - you bastards.
I wouldn't mind if you were an elegant, Laboutin heel with a patent leather toe and a sensual red underside. But you are not. If you were beautiful it would be worth the pain... I'd smile through the tears and show people how proudly I wore you... even with the blood from my toes staining the pavement as I walked. But you are nasty little shoes. You are boring black leather with, let's face it, a frankly inexplicable decoration on the side... how is it that you can hurt so much and be so deformed?
Whoever created you must have been on the Lidl's Shoe Making Course in order to have created such a fundamentally flawed piece of footwear... there is simply no other explanation for your behaviour. Were you crafted by monkeys in a dark room with the constant threat of explosions? Had whoever made you ever seen the shape of the average foot? Perhaps you are designed for a whole other species and this is why my beloved hooves are now cowering in terror looking like they've just been flogged by a particularly vengeful pirate captain.
Needless to say I am furious. I thought you might have calmed down at the point where I stopped to waste two perfectly good Elastoplasts on my weeping heels. But no. You just chewed up the plasters so that now I not only have blisters, I have sticky blisters with a dirty black rectangle around them where the glue from the plaster has really only succeeded in ensuring I look like a geometric hobo. I bought you specifically for the job interview I have this afternoon where I am now going to turn up inviting questions as to why I have not ticked the disablities box when it is quite obvious I have a club foot due to the manner in which I am hobbling.
Short of cutting off all my toes and reaaranging them to alternative positions on my foot, I really can't see any way you and I are going to get along well enough for me to do anything other than smash bugs with you. What a collossal waste of my affection, money and foot skin you have been.
Send my regards to the devil you beastly little aphids.