You're old and dying and some people you're related to have crowded around your bed to ask you if there's anything you've never done that you still want to do.
"I've been watching the videos," you rasp to them. "The dirty ones. I wish I could have done like the girls in the videos and had sex with the high heels still on."
Of the people you're related to, the older ones look concerned. They brought their children for you to see once more, to give them a chance to say goodbye to their grandma. But it sounds like you're about to go off on one of your "those videos" tangents.
"In those videos," you gasp at them. "The girls look so sleek, smooth as new cars, and I think it's because they leave their high heels on. Like they know that there's no point when a lady shouldn't try to look her best, even when she's on her back letting strange men do their worst. The men have no need for the feet so why not keep them dolled up in the pretty high heeled shoes. I wish I had kept my high heels on when I used to put my feet on your grandfather's shoulders."
The children have been ushered out of the room by now, and some of your descendents are telling you to shhhh.
"I don't want you to pay any men to come here and fulfill my dying wish," you whisper, holding one of the many hands extended to you. "Don't trouble yourselves. Some regrets we take with us to the grave to keep us company."
They're used to your passive aggressive tactics and normally they'd call you on something like this. But you're on your deathbed and they don't want to fight, so one of your sons-in-law has gone off to find enough wifi to search through adultfriendfinder and see who's still taking out-calls in your hospital's zip code.
Happy With The High Heels Still On Day!
