I was just in the pet food aisle at the grocery store with four boxes of pierogies and the giant cube of toilet paper balanced against my head.

A man rounds the corner into the aisle and looks at me and says, “Yo, your Boots.”

And I rotate my toilet paper cube to look at him.

“Your boots are The Shit. The Shit.”

Thank you, random sir, for your appreciation of my fashion choices even with an industrial block of Quilted Northern on my head.