If I'd had a choice, I would not have witnessed your unsuccessful attempt to cram your hammy beast of a bare foot into a non-responsive deep red patent leather slide that, on a less monstrous appendage, would have been quite fetching. But there you were, displaying its impossibly flat broadness, its pinkish-purple hue, its Flintstonian toe-stubs of strangely mismatched lengths punctuated with poorly-shaped, pearlized-mauve-painted nails -- right there next to me. I did have a choice, though, to flaunt my fabulous, flawless foot just for your benefit. So I did.