Lady, she’s your Grandma, and she’s approaching 100 soon. I sat across the way from you and your grandmother at lunch today with a co-worker. At one point I realized I had placed my unspoken self right into your conversation, uncontrollably fixed listening to your Grandma talk. The restaurant we were in had really cool old school flapper girl paintings, which I assume probably took your grandmother back in time for a short second. On these girls in these paintings, were knee high boots similar to the ones you were wearing. Your Grandma went into a whole story about how she met your grandfather, and she went as far as calling her old flapper boots the reason for her life’s lucky days.
How is it that you don’t even acknowledge her? Nose deep into your Mormon Porn Fifty Shades of Grey, you never even once looked up at her. At the end of her story you two were wrapping things up getting ready to leave. Grandma at that moment expressed how she’d love a pair of boots like yours again. You shunned her, and told her that she doesn’t need them at her age. WTF??? It was Nana's feet that made those boots for walking! Get her a goddamn pair of boots!