Once upon a time, I was at a party (this is a horror story) and I was wearing very high, very expensive shoes (this was a party during the Celtic Tiger, double horror).
The bones of my feet were in such pain that eventually I removed the cruel shoes and promptly became six inches shorter, so that the people I’d been talking to were looking around in confusion, asking, “Where’d she go? She was here a minute ago.”
“Down here!” I called. “You know this reminds me of The Little Mermaid and the sacrifices women make to – wait where are you going?” Because, like I said, it was the Celtic Tiger and people scorned any talk of feminism because they were busy doing boasting about their three investment properties in Bulgaria.