I was hoping for a weirder day.
Over a year ago, I got a random message on myspace,
“Interested in foot modeling?”
“Hmmm, I’m interested, but I’m out of the country for the next year.”
My foot modeling career slipped my mind somewhere between Egypt and Argentina.
A year later, back in Worcester, busy doing nothing and stalking people on facebook, I get another message,
“Still interested in foot modeling?”
The day arrives. I tell my mom what I’m doing. She’s worried,
“How did you meet him?”
“On the internet.”
“What’s he going to do with the photos?”
“I can only imagine… But he’s paying me forty dollars!”
I pick out my toe crud and off I go.
He’s not nearly weird enough! Cute, quiet. So much for my afternoon of fending off a foot fetish psycho.
He perches my feet on a park bench and the shoot begins. A middle-age guy plunks down across from us and shouts,
“Is that for Foot Fetish Magazine?!”
Maybe this is the start of my career.
“It sure looks like it’s for Foot Fetish Magazine!”
Near the end of the shoot, foot boy remarks,
“What I like about your feet is the shape.”
Yeah, I get that all the time.
He hands me forty dollars and that’s it, no foot molestation. As I walk in the house, my mom yells,
“Are your feet still attached?!?”
I show her my feet and the forty dollars. She’s excited,
“Does he want to take photos of my feet? We could get women together for him and have a foot party!”