You’re a mid-level corporate analyst with a half mile walk between your subway stop and office building, and find the running shoe sole-dress shoe exterior hybrid thing, however sad, rather comfortable. Basically, it’s a slipper that looks appropriate enough for the corporate world, in which you are tediously perishing in obscurity. Come lunch you’re on a bench in the quad overshadowed by tall buildings eating a Subway sandwich under the patient wait of small black birds. The infinite grid of an excel file expands as you maximize the window, the lattice work of organized hell. Your pedestrian gait down the streets after work is slower than the leather soled more aggressive types clicking away at the cold stoney earth.