!! I rested my feet in the footprints !!

of wealth and success today as I got my shoes shined. Imagine how many really expensive shoes worn by really wealthy bank presidents have rested on those very brass footrests and have been shined by the funny foreign man with the moustache. He used about ten different polishes and oils and things to make my shoes extra glossy and beautiful and then he buffed them with four different towels. It was odd sitting so high up in the shoeshine chair and looking down while someone paid such close attention to my feet. It was a sort of regal feeling that inspired supreme confidence. I think it represents a big chunk of the capitalist dream that is actually really accessible because it only costs $2. Successful stockbrokers probably enjoy getting their shoes shined almost as much as snorting cocaine in the men’s room at the NYSE, and it’s so much cheaper!
It’s a vital component, and one that I can take part in here on Wall Street while remaining a spectator to the gruesome game that is being played all around me. On my way back into the building, shoes glimmering, I had to whip out my work ID at the new security checkpoint. Thanks, John Ashcroft, for reminding us that we are all potential targets and therefore very important. I love investment banks, especially during CODE ORANGE.

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1 Comment on "I rested my feet in the footprints"

  1. My mom went out with a guy who used to be a big shot lawyer in the 80’s. Not only did he snort coke in the bathroom, he wore a velvet suit, drove a prosce, and got perms.

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