I steal The Electrician’s shoes all the time. It’s his fault because he leaves them here, one ginormous pair at the back door. I think they originally showed up for him to wear while he’s helping me renovate my bathroom, so he doesn’t ruin his “good” black Vans.
The Electrician’s shoes rule the back porch. They are the tyrannosaurs of the footwear world. You know, stomping, roaring, blocking out the sun. Real king of the Cretaceous jungle business.
When I attempted to take the above photo, I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t get the picture to stick and why my flash would not do its thing. It wasn’t until I’d taken a 47 second video of two beat up shoes doing nothing that I realized the darn thing was set to “film.” New camera. I’m getting there. Please don’t tell anyone how lame I am, okay?
If we do the math, it’s all a little alarming. I wear a size 5.5 in ladies’ shoes. I can also wear children’s shoes if they’re cute enough. Actually kids’ shoes are a lot cheaper than grown up shoes, so I buy them in the interest of frugality whenever I can. They don’t make a shoe small enough for me in men’s shoes, but a men’s 4 would fit if there was such a critter. The Electrician wears a size 12 or 13. Simple math time: 12 divided by 4 equals 3. By those terms, then, his feet are three times the size of mine.
Another difference is that he doesn’t have pink sparkly toe nails.
Because those big, battered shoes are so, well, big, I often slip them on if I just have to run outside for a moment. Tonight, the spaghetti was boiling away when I realized that my purse, complete with grocery money tucked inside, was on the front seat of my SUV. I stepped directly into those shoes and dashed out to grab my purse before some hooligan took my beautiful recycled pop bottle purse.
I steal The Electrician’s shoes because I’m too lazy to untie mine, put them on, and then lace them back up. I don’t walk anywhere with my shoes untied, but that’s a story for another day. The issue with walking in shoes that are so blipping oversized, however, is that walking itself becomes a challenge. I think traveling out to the alley in those things is rather like tripping my way out back in a pair of canoes. Imagine trying to travel with any speed and grace while wearing a couple of shoeboxes on your feet. Got the picture?
I don’t know why I would rather risk tripping and breaking my face wearing The Electrician’s sneakers than take the time to put my own little shoes on properly. I think it’s a good example of one of those little things we do to save time that thwarts us in the end, like changing lanes when traffic slows down or turning the burner up only to burn dinner six minutes later.
Either way, I am twitching in anticipation of flip-flop season. Those three weeks are my favorite time of year.
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