My boots were recently interviewed by a "team member" from Blogger. Find the transcript below:
Where are you from?
The Roseville Galleria. The side that didn’t burn down.
And what is your name?
That’s unique, Slavic?
It’s actually Germanic. Steve meaning “temporary” and Madden meaning “Prison of the feet.”
I see, very interesting. So how long have you known Sophia?
Its been under a week. Her mom bought us for her for an early Valentines Day present. They argued in the store for a while because Sophia said she still hadn’t even gotten a Xmas present. It was a real scene. Felt like some Veruca Salt, I want it now sh*t. Her mom finally relented cause we were 50% off. She loves feeling like she’s scored a good deal.
How much did you guys end up costing, if I may ask?
Well that’s not too steep I guess
It isn’t, but it did win us the title of being Sophia’s most expensive pair of boots.
Thanks a bunch. And thanks for having us.
Hi, welcome to the studio.
where are you guys from?
We’re from Eco-Thrift, Citrus Heights' hottest thrifting spot. Sorry, not so shameless plug.
It’s allright (smiles) How did you and Sophia meet?
It’s a funny story actually. She had checked us out at the store one day, picked us up, carried us around but didn’t buy us.
Yeah and a week later she showed up again, this time bought us. It’s cause we had been marked down, the tag colors had changed and we were now 50% off.
Sounds like a real courtship
It was. You don’t find that a lot now days.
I hear you. So, how are things going with you guys and her since you’ve moved in together?
I mean, things are good, it’s just that we don’t get out a lot. We once went with her to drum practice and she said we gave her shin splints from pressing the bass drum pedal.
That’s unfortunate. What kind of music was it, country? (laughs)
No, it wasn’t and we don’t appreciate your stereotyping. This interview is over (storm out of studio).
Hello, nice to meet you, you uh-don’t look familiar. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you around…
We’re last season
Oh well that explains it. Well let me say that you have a lovely bow.
Thanks, we got that a lot back in the day. It’s just that Sophia wore us so much last year that the nails came through our heels. Hehe. So we’ve been riding around this season in the back of her car waiting for her to take us to the cobbler.
A good cobbler is hard to find.
That’s what she said.
Thanks. We had our hey-day. We were showcased with cheetah shorts, leggings, dresses, jeans, you name it.
Sounds like you had quite the run. Hey, just for our readers, tell us what's on your ipod.
We like a lot of hip hop, but our fave song right now is Ke$ha's "Boots and Boys." Even though Sophia thinks she is a dirty glam wh*r*. Oops, can we say that here?
No worries, we'll bleep it out, we aren't live.
Well best of luck to you in your future surgery. Hopefully you can get back out there and finish where you left off.
For sure thanks.
Thats a lovely picture of you and your friends.
Thanks, we cherish it a lot.
Tell us how you arrived here, in this pic, on Sophia's feet?
We’re Sophia’s boots and we are from J.C.P but we crossed the border shortly after meeting her so we spent some time living in Mexico as well.
Oh, Mexico. Sounds dangerous.
Your mom sounds dangerous.
So…um what’s your most memorable memory with Sophia?
Oh that’s easy, that’d have to be her 25th birthday. We have plenty of photos via Marianne, as Sophia’s camera was stolen that night. Well, here take a look. We’ll narrate:
It started off, the normal birthday shot taking. Here she is taking her fave shot on planet earth, the russian roulette. It's a perfect shot lit on fire, and chased with a slice of pineapple covered in cinnamon. It's greater than ecstasy but lesser than GHB . We know, we used to dabble.
The drinking lead to dancing, or the dancing to the drinking, chicken or the egg, u get the picture. She was excited to dance banda in some botas so she busted out her old choreography.
Some cowboys appreciated her movement and they posed for this pic. Shortly after, Marianne and her ended up in V.I.P. up in the sky bar. When she came down from the sky bar and exited the club, stepping over a crying drunk Mexican man and soothing him "ya, ya, no llores," she discovered her camera was gone. She blamed it on the narcos, a likely suspect. She was so upset she kicked a taxi, cursing it, "puto taxi," got into the car and was driven home to cry herself to sleep.
Wow. That really is a great story. Thanks for sharing! and thanks for all the photos.
I'd really like to thank Marianne, who was also taking photos the entire night. Without her, this night would have been lost forever.