You are driving near an industrial park and you see a very pretty young executive hobbling along. She is wearing a black and white dress, a power scarf, and, as you can now make out, has broken a heel. You stop and say, “hi ma’am, want a lift to your building? I can see you’re a little indisposed.” She blushes red for a second, then she laughs. “Sure, you look like a safe guy.” (She’s right—you are.)
She gets in and tells you it was dumb of her to walk to the Sushi place for lunch in her heels, but she’s been trying to get a little more exercise lately. Then she groans and slips her bare feet out of her pumps and puts them on the dash. “Hope you don’t mind,” she says apologetically, “my feet ache after hobbling along all that way.”
No, you say, I don’t mind, not at all, and try very hard to pay attention to the road.