The shoes cost too much! If I didn’t get them for free, I wouldn’t even be able to afford my own shoes.”
Bob Hansen smiled (of course) and nodded. I had my parents drive me to his office so I could complain. “Yes, they are a little high-end. That’s because it costs more to make them so unique.”
“But how are people supposed to afford them? People don’t have that kind of money to spend on shoes that their kid’s just going to grow out of.” That’s what my mom always tells me when I want an expensive piece of clothing.
“Lots of people are affording them based on the first few weeks’ sales. We’re actually very pleased.” Mr. Hansen pulled out some papers that had graphs on them. Yuck — graphs. I pretended to look at them and understand, and then I plunked myself down on the chair.
“But that girl was practically crying. It caused her and her dad to fight.”
“It’s just business, honey.” Dad rubbed his neck.
“Are all the shoes that expensive?” Mom asked Bob. “Can’t Swiftriver make something cheaper?”
Mr. Hansen pulled out another stack of papers with sketches on them. “We are designing some flip-flops for the summer that will go for around forty dollars.”
I pictured my flip-flop collection at home. Mom would never pay more than $4.99 a pair. Riley Mae flip-flops were going to be ten times more expensive. I’m not too good at math, but even I could figure that out.
“I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry, Mr. Hansen, but you have to let me out of my contract.” I took off my “Butter Ups” and put them on his desk.