Really big shoes.
So I have big feet. It’s official. For years I’ve been playing the “I’m a size seven shoe” game as if a size seven was considered “average” or “typical” but the truth is, although a seven is considered large, it’s still “heard of” if you understand what I’m saying.
Sure, you get the occasional jester, who’ll say things like: “Your feet are so big, you don’t need water skis” or “Your feet are so big, a cop pulled you off the pavement and asked you for your licence and registration.” And of course, there’s the uninspired “Hey Bigfoot!” I like to call these people, wank knuckles. But all this is tolerated because despite this, it’s still considered acceptable to be a size seven.
However, there is not more denying it. No longer can I continue with this facade. I am not a size seven; in fact, I haven’t been for quite some time. I am…in actual fact…a…size…8. (Shudder!)
This realisation was recognised a few weeks ago when I decided to go to the mall on a Saturday morning to do a little shoe shopping. I had a birthday party in the afternoon but the two pairs I wanted (white pumps and black stilettos) I felt would be relatively easy to find. I would hit one or two shoe boutiques and be on the road again leaving plenty of time to get home and prepare myself for the party. Unfortunately, this was not to be. Instead fate had a different plan for me entirely. Read the rest of this entry »
