Apparently this one-pair phenomenon is a "guy" thing. But I hate "guy" things. I'd rather just call it a "crazy person" thing. I don't like people who automatically and with great polarity categorize everyday personality traits by gender simply because of the "AM I RITE GALS OR AM I RITE" mentality normally associated with stand-up comedians or the authors of those horrible Mars-And-Venus books. Although I have a Y chromosome and the appropriate dangly bits that go with it, I ask for directions if lost and I put the toilet seat down after using the bathroom and if you want the remote control, go right ahead and use it, but if I see something on I'll ask to go back so we can see what's up. At any rate, I think it's useless to perpetuate a gender rift that way. I'd rather there not be a gender rift. We're much cooler to each other without one.
Oh, yes. Footwear. I bought a new pair tonight because my old pair of boots were going right out. They were winter boots but Mom had given them to me as a Christmas present last year when I was broke and so poor that I dreamed about eating ramen, so I as a thrifty Yankee wore them all throughout this year. As a result I walked three winters' worth of walking in nine months, so they had cracked and split and the heels wore down due to the way I walk and by the end of it I was hobbling around with almost reverse arch support. The lining in the boots had gone and they ate up all my socks. I had holes in every pair. It was embarassing and uncomfortable and on bad days, every step was pain. I got used to it, though. I had to. I had no other choice.
Until tonight when I realized OH HEY NO WAIT when I was at the shoe store. Kristen and Lynn were running pell-mell inside, Lynn trying on orange Chucks and truly hideous Dutch clog shoes, and I was over in the Manly Men Shoes For Men Who Are Manly section and I saw a nice pair of New Balance walkers. And they were on sale. And they had 'em in my size. And they were in black. I don't like white sneakers. And since I bought a pair, Lynn's hideous Dutch cloggy things were half-price, so we all won.
And oh lordy are them shoes comfortable. There's still a bit of breaking-in pain and I haven't worn anything but high-tops for a long time so the feeling of nothing around the ankles is kinda weird but let me tell you it is so worth it to not have a nice stabbing pain in the heel every time I take a step. I'll see how they hold up tomorrow during my usual walking rounds. I think they're gonna do just fine. The best part was I had this incredible back-to-school rush, as I used to associate new pairs of shoes with a new school year. Oh how we could dash up them junior high steps in comfortable new PF Flyers! You really could run a mile in under a minute with those beauties and their new soles and cushions and stuff. Sure, by the end of next summer they'd be beat and dead and more than likely covered in grass clippings from the lawnmowing summer job, but that was OK cause you'd get brand-new ones just in time for the first homeroom bell of the year.
Actually, the best part of this purchase was that I also bought new socks because who wants to wear ratty old socks in new shoes, and -- and this is the most important part -- to purge myself of the object empathy I knew would hold me back, I deposited both the old socks and old boots in garbage bins before making my way back home. Now all I have are the new shoes and that's the way it should be.
I realize this might very well be one of the most mundane posts I've written here, but I'm psyched. New shoes, goddammit! New shoes!