Shoes.

There was a time when shoe shopping was a joyous occasion. Every six months or so, Mom would take us to the mall to get new shoes. When I found a pair I liked that met Mom's approval, we would put my old shoes in the box so I could wear the new ones home. Also, up until about age 7, I would sleep in my new shoes. New shoes kicked more ass than anything.

Now shoe shopping is a damn chore. Ms. Brick has informed me daily for the past several months that she was "embarrassed" by the state of my dress shoes. I can't blame her, they were pretty banged up. I just despise the act of shopping so much that I put it off as long as possible. Just like I do with haircuts. Actually, come to think of it, I like to put off everything as long as possible. Isn't April 14th coming up? I feel like I have something I need to be doing on April 14th.

So a few days ago, we made the trip out to the Discount Shoe Warehouse. It was a lot less painful than I thought it would be. It usually takes about five shoe shopping trips before I find something I like that Ms. Brick also likes. It only took one trip this time. Awesome.

I walked into the store, and saw a pair of shoes I thought I liked. I tried them on and showed Ms. Brick. She informed me that I did not, in fact, like them.

Her: "They're too fat."
Me: "What the hell does that mean?"

I decided to put them back, because I didn't need her reminding me that she hated my shoes every time I put them on.

I found another pair that were pretty much exactly like the ones I was replacing, and they met her standards, but I decided to look some more. I found a pair of gay Rockports:

Her: "I don't like the rounded front."
Me: "But they're gay Rockports."

I liked the fact that they were only a little bit gay but not totally gay. They would give me just a little bit of gay street cred without completely emasculating me. I have no idea what I just said. I also don't get why Ms. Brick didn't like them, because it seems whenever we go shopping for shoes, she finds the gayest shoe in the store and wants me to try it on. Something like this, for example:



I would then laugh at her and tell her to put them back.

To quote Adam Sandler: "If I wore something like that I'd have to kick my own ass."

So, I find it inexplicable that she didn't like the Rockports.

I walked around some more, went back to considering the first pair of shoes she didn't like, and the gay Rockports, and the other ones that she actually did like.

I got the ones she liked.