My feet got pretty dusty at the fair yesterday.

I had to go to the Giant to get cake mix. I had to take off my shoes to go into the store or I'd wake up the puppies. See, the store was filled with sleeping puppies instead of groceries. So I traversed the Giant shoelessly and got some chocolate cake mix. My father had driven me there in his volvo, but he had to leave. He left the car right outside the door of the giant so I'd have it. I got in the car, but I'd never driven a stick before. The seat was too low and too close to the wheel, and the pedals were about the size of piano keys. There were cars behind me honking. I tried to adjust my seat and remove my shoes so I could hit the pedals with my toes. My feet were covered in dust from the store and kept sliding off the pedals anyway. An old woman came up to the window of my car and asked me if I needed help. I said I didn't, though at this point there were tears in my eyes.