What your view of sports and life would be if you had too many concussions
Have you ever seen those people who pick up something in a store, then decide they don’t want it and just leave it wherever they want. Well, thanks to one of those assholes, I’m going to end up in an off-Broadway production of Cabaret.
I just discovered that I bought and have been happily wearing a pair of women’s shoes for months now.
I know this is how it starts. An honest mistake on some cheap, Made in China shoes will prove to be the “gateway” to my becoming a full-out prancing queen….not that there’s anything wrong with that.
First of all, let me ask you this. Does this look like a women’s shoe?
At worst, this could be some Chinese communist uni-sex bullshit, but let’s be honest. Guys, if you were looking for some cheap-ass Sprawl-Mart shoes, you would buy either of these and be happy to do so. I find these in the men’s shoe section, see they are only $13, try them on…voilà…done deal. In fact, I’m so happy with these shoes that I decided to look on Sprawl-Mart.com to see about getting more of them, and possibly in some different colors.
The color thing should have been my first warning. I’m not a “colorful” guy. Mrs. J-Dub makes comments about my wardrobe like “a monument to muted tones,” “an accountant on Valium,” or my personal favorite, “a more boring version of Mr. Rogers.”
Anyway, as I’m searching the interwebz, I discover the exact pair of shoes I’m looking for. Now, if you ever ordered clothing on-line, you know they have those little boxes you can click which show the color options available for a particular item.
I already said I’m looking for warning sign #1…color. My choices are “Black,” and “Other.” So, I click “Other.” I get this.
Welcome to a classic “What the fuck?” moment. I back out of that image, and one word jumps out of the hyperlink I just clicked and “Three Stooges” me right in the eyes.
Danskin “Now Women’s Knit Slip-on Shoe-Wide Width”
Fuck me… fuck me HARD. Without getting into details, suffice it to say I have enormous feet. Mrs. J-Dub describes them as “gigantic brick feet.” She’s also the one who said “Well, if that’s a women’s shoe, it’s a pretty damn big one.” Not only do I have big feet, I have bad feet. It’s hard for me to find shoes that both fit and don’t make my feet hurt.
These shoes meet both criteria, so I’m not going to quit wearing them. That also means I don’t give a fuck what you think. I don’t care if this comfortable pair of shoes ends up being the “gateway drug” to me turning into some cross-dressing flame-queen, my feet don’t hurt and that’s all I care about. Besides, thanks to Obama, wearing women’s shoes mean I can piss wherever I want now.
It doesn’t mean anything that I’ve got a new fondness for show tunes…not that there’s anything wrong with that…