* someone's first email to you misspells "hello"... in the subject line.

* the full text of their email is "what's up?"

* early on, they describe themselves as "what people call hyper / high energy... need ridalin (sic) I guess."

* they contact you. you respond with a fun, flirty retort. their full response to that is "huh, that's interesting."

I love womens' shoes.

No, not that way.

I love what womens' shoes so often say about their wearers.

Earth mama? Birkenstocks.

Diane Keaton playful-ironic? Keds. Red, of course.

Successful sophisticate? Stuart Weitzman.

Sex in the city savvy? Manolo Blahniks.

It's in the world of Dolce + Gabana and Manolos and Jimmy Choos and Steve Maddens and Stuart Weitzmans and Donald J. Pliners -- that the world of high heels, and all of their Newtonian laws, captures my fancy, and my admiration.

With a heel taller than 2 and 3/4 inches, the laws of physics are more real. Ankles turn easier. Heels are more frequently caught in sidewalk grates. Dancing can be a challenge. Soles, arches and toes ache more.

But that's the price for feet fashionably occluded: added shape and form to the forlorn foot, more shapely legs, a more seductive posture, more whimsy added to what's furthest away from the eyes, that is until the legs are crossed and the feet dangled tantalizing before the eyes of us interlopers, daring us (him or her) to yes, please ogle my shoes. I'll never be president of the fan club for ballet flats and their rosebud ornaments. Comfortable they may be -- the only possible explanation for their popularity -- but they don't give the female foot shape or form. They leave you flat-footed, literally. Gauze bandages would look better.

It's the shoes with snake-like wrap-around straps and/or buckles, while the foot itself if exposed, that appeals to my reptilian sense of capture. Of being bound, or the act of binding. Tie your mother down! It's why some men say, in the midst of naughty text-messaging during work, that they plan to remove every piece of clothing on your body later that night... everything but the shoes.

OK, I've probably thought too much about womens' shoes but after the eyes, it's the first thing I check out. They tell me just about everything I need to know.