Strange Conversations: Part One Hundred and Fifty-Nine

In which Nick becomes confused by the complexities of women’s fashion (in this case, my adorable striped house socks with the crocheted T-strap):

NICK: Oh, look: the little rubber bit has fallen off the bottom of your shoe.
ME: They’re socks.
NICK: Well, you don’t wear anything over them.
ME: That’s not the definition of a sock. They’re house socks.
NICK: I don’t even know what that means.
ME: It’s quite straightforward.
NICK: You mean they’re socks that you wear in the house?
ME: Yep.
NICK: Well, I suppose that’s . . . I mean, they’re . . . Well, they . . . They don’t even look like socks!
ME: They looks exactly like socks.
NICK: They look like shoes that are a bit sludgy!

I think Bonds should adopt that as their new advertising slogan, myself.