get down, turn around, go to town

Today I did something that might be considered slightly fucking ridiculous.

It all started the other day when My Roommate The Vegan sweet-talked me into a country line dancing girls night out, scheduled for what is now tonight. After convincing me to do this, which really wasn't as hard as you might think, we both realized that we were facing a huge hurdle to such an adventure:

What would we wear?

In general, I either dress like a 12-year-old boy, a 45-year-old stay-at-home-mom with 6 kids, or a coctail waitress. None of these options seemed appropriate.

"You know what I would really like," I told The Vegan, in an unexpected moment of brutal honesty. "I need a pair of pink cowboy boots."

(WHERE DID THAT COME FROM???)

And yet as soon as I'd said it, I could picture myself in short cut-off jeans and tall pink cowboy boots. I had a big floppy cowgirl hat and breast implants. I looked a lot like Jessica Simpson with red hair.

I liked it.

But pink cowboy boots are not the sorts of things I consider a logical financial investment, so I quickly shoved the idea to the back of my mind along with other forgotten fantasies, such as "raise abandoned mice babies", "use powerful telepathic persuasion powers to will evil coworker to quit", and "wax".

So I forgot about the boots. Until today.

It just so happens that I have a friend who is sort of a closet Hick. And we were eating lunch together. And she found out I was going country line dancing. And she knows where to find pink boots.

"Oh, you can get those down at Farm Supply." She said it so easily and so matter-of-factly it made me feel as though people must ask her where to find pink boots every day.

And suddenly my Pink Boot Fantasie was reactivated. I HAD TO HAVE THEM.

My Friend The Secret Hick vollunteered to go boot-shopping with me. This was a huge relief as I was a little weary of going someplace called "Farm Supply" alone. Would it be full of cowboys? Would they look at me funny because I'm not wearing a belt with lots of turquoise on it? Would they laugh at me when I asked if the spurs are sold seperately?

Farm Supply turned out to be one of those places where I am most comfortable making a feeble attempt to blend in with the rest of the customers and not get in anyone's way. But My Friend The Secret Hick would have none of it. "HELLO," she bellowed to the customer sales rep (who was wearing a rhinestone-encrusted shirt that read "I LOVE THE RODEO") as soon as we set foot in the door. "MY FRIEND IS LOOKING FOR SOME PINK BOOTS."

Here, I prepared myself to be mortified. ("Pink Boots?!?!" I expected her to say, "Who do you think you are, Wynonna Fucking Judd???") But the sales lady just smiled excitedly, nodded and said "Oh, how fun! We actually only have two pairs left, unless you can fit into the Kids-sized boots, in which case we have plenty! These babies are going fast!"

Are you kidding me? According to her there should be hoards and gobs of cowgirls lumbering the streets of San Luis in pink boots, but I've never seen any. Maybe people just wear them at home. Playing Dress-Up.

The kids boots fit, and they were perfect and wonderful in every way, and only half as expesive as the adult boots so I won't have to buy single-ply toilet paper and Folgers for the rest of my life to afford them.

I bought them.

And I'm wearing them right now.

The Vegan finds this hilarious and wonderful and wants to have a photo shoot later out at the chicken coup.