Jeremy’s mother always told him you could tell a lot about a person from their socks.
Whether they were practical (plain black or a colour that went with nothing you owned);
Their income (expensive socks that lasted more than one wash or cheap ones that went fluffy straight away);
Whether they were fun or not (again, plain versus patterned)
And to his mother, the most important thing of all, whether they were rebellious (crazy socks worn with a suit that you only got a glimpse of when someone sat down or crossed their legs).
Jeremy looked down at his own socks that morning and noticed: they weren’t practical, they were so cheap he had a hole appearing on his right big toe after one wash, they were patterned with Ariel from The Little Mermaid and he was wearing a killer suit that didn’t match.
He sighed. He guessed that meant he was an impractical skinflint who had given up hope in women and settled for a fictional character instead.
What had his life come to?