Hostess then asks if I have shoes I can change into (er, no, sorry those HURT). I say that I have socks on. She looks unhappy -- I can tell that she feels bad, and she then looks over to the bartender, who clearly gets to call the shots. He does not even look at me, He raises his chin and gives the smallest shake of his head. I felt like the poor girl in highschool getting Mean Girled to the extreme. Hostess goes I'm sorry, looking (I think to her credit) rather miserable. He didn't even have the BALLS to LOOK at me! It was like an exaggerated snobby moment that is supposed to be parody in movies. Hostess tells me I can of course sit at the lovely noisy spot outside. There my shoes will not offend. [Chowhound]
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