Big Feet

 

I have big feet. They are size 11 feet and they're so wide, it's almost like they're webbed. Hence, like those people with super small feet, I am hesitant to go shoe-shopping and am almost always disappointed with the results. I either end up with nada or a pair of shoes that soon proves to be just as uncomfortable as I suppose an iron maiden would be, but not nearly as durable.

 

My current pair of shoes has been worn almost every day since November or December, and they have a hole in them, as well as severe scuffing. To be charitable to that fine pair of shoes that has served me so well, I should say that they have specialized venting and character marks.

 

I mentioned to MFD that she was wearing her hip shoes today and then mentioned that I really needed some new shoes. Women talk like that, especially about shoes. I mentioned that I have really wide feet and she told me that her partner does as well. Her partner has found a trio of stores that are connected, which have wide widths in abundance.

 

Off I go to this trio of shoe stores, hoping to find a treasure. But I don't get my hopes up, because I usually find that stores of this nature are overpriced and have no selection. The other thing that I usually find is that their idea of a good shoe looks like the beige orthopedic number that you'd find on a nun librarian with severely swollen ankles. No thank you. I'm 29, not 69.

 

So I get to the stores. I stop in the first one. No dice. Orthopedic styles that cost about $100.00 apiece are in abundance. Hip, young shoes are not.

 

I go next door to another store.

 

They measure my feet. I make sure they want to do so, because my feet have been in non-breathing shoes with dress socks all day. That is to say, they probably stink. They're sure about this measurement deal, so off come my old shoes.

 

I get a hint as to how downhill this expedition is about to go when the Dumb Shoe Bitch starts pinching her nose and going, "Are you worried that they're STINKY?" while chewing gum, with a little southern accent.

 

No, dumbfuck, I'm worried that you might notice I have leprosy. A toe might fall out and roll around in my sock or something. I'd hate to fish it out in front of you. What the fuck did you THINK I meant?

 

I reply, "Ummm...yes."

 

I'm a little sensitive about my feet, folks. They're fuckin huge, so that's why. So imagine my horror when the dumb bitch measuring my feet goes, "OH MY! Those are BIG FEET!"

 

 I gave her a look that could kill her, but she blathers on about my ginormous feet. "WOW! Those certainly are WIDE! Is that a C or a D? Oh, between C and D? OK, I'll go in the back and see what we got."

 

Off she goes and I remark to the assistant, "Tact isn't her strong suit, is it?"

 

Here's what I want to say: "Tell that dumb bitch to shut the fuck up, and I'm never buying a goddamned pair of shoes in this fucking store as long as I live. Jesus Christ, don't you have anything here for the under 70 crowd? FUCK! For fuck's sake, haven't you ever heard the word hip? You think people with big feet who are 29 fuckin years old want to wear this shit? And then you fuckin overcharge for this ugly shit?" FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Dumb Shoe Bitch comes back with a couple of ugly ass specimens. I decline both. She offers to walk me over to SAS shoes (for more orthopedic shoes; I'd already been to that fuckin dump), and I just decline, "No thanks. I think I'll be leaving now."

 

Off I go and then call Darling Niki to rant on her voicemail. I feel almost as bad as I imagine I would have had the Dumb Shoe Bitch exclaimed, "Wow! We should just call you SASQUATCH!!! Get it?!! BIG FOOT?!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!"

 

So now I'm in a real lather. My hackles are UP. I give up on quality and then decide to see if Famous Footwear has anything. "Our wide widths stop at size ten."

 

"JEEEEEEESUS CHRIST!" And then I hang up on the poor phone lady. At least I didn't say fuck again.

 

I finally acquiesce and march over to Payless. It turns out that they have a bunch of shoes that seem like they'll fit well. They're not in the colors I like, so I'll order some online tomorrow. My last foray there didn't turn out so well, so that's why I didn't go there to begin with.

 

I hate shoe shopping. God I hate it. I can't wait until I'm thin and my feet shrink again. Then I can shop for shoes like some women eat potato chips when they're stressed. Right now, shoe shopping is strictly utilitarian. There's no fun in it.

 

I'm just glad I'm in Program, because I would have probably had a total meltdown in that store. That lady would have been a quivering mass of nerves by the time I was done. Either that or I'd have been sent to jail.