Nice Shoes...

A bad pickup line’s in there somewhere.

This is what happened today as I was taking some photos of the KL Tower:

Middle aged lady off the street: Hi, nice shoes. Where’d you get them from?
Me: Um. Petaling Street.
Lady: Oh, yeah. Great place. Where do you come from?
Me: Canada [looking around nervously, gripping onto wallet for dear life]
Lady: [brings in another lady] This is my sister in law.
Me: Uh. Listen, it’s been great chatting with you and all, but I really have to go.
[Exit me]

There’s nothing unusual about this dialogue except that it’s happened to me three times already, with three different sets of people and in-laws (two female, one male), with different shoes, on separate occasions. It’s hard not to get suspicious.

I have yet to figure out what this scam is all about. My cousins suspect it’s a code system whereby they offer prostitutes (and compliments) in exchange for hard earned tourist dollars. I still think they’re trying to lure me out somewhere, rob me blind, and leave my (semi-nude?) body in a dumpster. I suppose some mysteries are best left unsolved.

On an unrelated note, this is what happens when public service announcements go wrong: