  "Sweet, sweet nectar of Mexico! La Cerveza Mas Fina! I concur! " she shouts. He just looks at her from the couch, controller in hand. She's drinking her Corona and he has Star Wars on the brain. She's had a long day and doesn't want to think about how she stayed 45 minutes late at work today. "I wanna be on Hollywood Squares! " he says. OK. Pencil that one in. Today is just another day for the record books. Another day spent staying late at work, which seems to be happening a lot more lately. Ever since that fateful memo was circulated, her workload seems to have doubled.
She thinks back to the days when she first started working at this company. She had nothing to do. Absolutely nothing besides flipping through magazines, surfing the internet and planning her wedding. Two and half years later, she wonders why her boots hate her so much and what will happen if she can no longer walk like a normal person.
"You're becoming a New Yorker," they tell her. Fashion - it hurts so much sometimes. She remembers when she was a little girl, when her mom would fix her hair and she would squirm in the chair. Her mom would say, "you have to suffer to be beautiful. " She grins and looks back down at her feet knowing that by morning, she'll have forgotten how she had to peel her boots off along with the wet, sweaty socks. In the morning, she'll pull her boots back on for one more day, waiting for Spring and Summer - flip flop season! *all stories are fiction 
