Don’t Look Down

This morning I took the S-Bahn (like the metro but partly above ground). As I was very tired––too much Mosel-Champagne yesterday, which was Christopher Roth’s and Georg Diez’s fault––and not in the best mood after walking ten minutes through the rain, I just wanted to sit down not seeing anybody, which again turned out impossible. Because the new seating disposition is two long benches in front of each other. So I looked down. That was a big mistake. I tell you: never look down in the S-Bahn.
Down there is misery.
Why are people wearing those kind of things on their feet? I saw skin-colored tights in strange high-heels, kind of square semi sneaker, semi low shoes. A wild mixture of pure ugliness.
Why are shoes still so much worse than clothes? Even the Berlin-haircuts are better than the shoes. Why are shoes so difficult?