In which I will not sell your shoes

I ordered some shoes off the Internet. No, not my beloved Kiziks, although I did order yet another pair of those,(*) but some other brand that are going to scan more as a business/work shoe than what I’ve been wearing lately. Am I going to tell you what the shoes are?

No, because they immediately emailed me– and they’ve emailed me several times since– congratulating me for my new status as a “brand ambassador” for them, and explaining how I can get money by getting other people to buy their shoes, and giving me discount codes I can share, and explaining their reimbursement structure, and I’m like … motherfucker, I don’t even have the shoes yet, and can you maybe ask me if I want to be a brand ambassador, maybe a week after I’ve had them, to see if I even like the Goddamn things?

(Also: I ordered these with my real name and personal email address and it’s not like you have to enter your website to buy shoes, so there’s no earthly way they could connect the shoe-buyer with this site. I’ve had things sent to me for review before, and that’s its own thing. I bought these and they think I should sell them as a side gig now. I assume they’re doing this to everyone.)

The aggressiveness is equal parts off-putting and alarming, and honestly it makes me want to return the shoes as soon as they arrive, which is vastly annoying, as I do actually like the looks of the damn things or I wouldn’t have ordered them in the first place.

(*) In all seriousness this is, I think, my fifth pair of Kiziks, and if they want me to be a brand ambassador I’m all over it, but these other folks are gonna have to generate some goodwill with a quickness if they even want to keep the business they already got from me.

On unanswerable questions

After I finished yesterday’s blog post I browsed around on that hat website for a little while, coveting many of the hats and wondering how many hats is too many hats, when I noticed that the bottom of their main page claims to “find your perfect hat” in less than 60 seconds. Well, hell, I want my perfect hat! They made me give them my email address, but whatever; I just had Safari make one up for me, which is one of my very favorite features of that app, and then jumped into the process.

This was the first question:

… as God is my witness, I have no fucking idea. I need a z-axis. I don’t fit on that scale at all and I have no idea what even the middle point between the Pope (which Pope? The Jesuit current guy or the previous dude, whose shoes were made from baby seals and dyed with the blood of virgins?) and Elton John, and Christ, which Elton John?

I chose a 5. I couldn’t justify any other number. I don’t know what the fuck a five even means here; I thought the pain scale didn’t make any sense but this is so much worse.

At any rate, I didn’t particularly like the three hats they suggested. None of them are my perfect hat. I’m considering going through the test again and answering that question with a 1 and a 10 to see what changes. The really inexplicable part is that I’m pretty certain that neither the Pope nor Elton John would be caught dead in any hats being sold on the site.

The weirdest thing? This image appears elsewhere on the site:

I think four of those people look great and one looks amazingly, uncharacteristically dorky. Guess which one?

Anyway, how many hats can I have? That was a real question.