Or, Shoeless in Sevierville
You know those days, the days where it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed. The days when even your dog doesn’t love you. The days when you walk thru a spider web in the dark and beat yourself silly trying to kill the brown recluse you just know is poised to bite. The days when the only possible reply to cheery good mornings is ‘eat shit and die.’ The days when there isn’t enough liquor, and automatic weapons are looking like the only solution to Sartre’s vision of hell. Have you had days like those? I have, and I had a really simple cure. Just kidding about the automatic weapons, btw. At least until the statute of limitations runs out.
My cure involved shopping. Shoe shopping, to be specific. There’s nothing like the little boost one gets from a new pair of saucy sandals or the pick-me-up provided by the smell of real leather. Sure, it’s bought love, but that’s the only kind of love I need on Those Days.
Yesterday, it didn’t work. No shoe in the store could do anything for me. For once, the Power of the Shoe failed. I went down every single aisle, tried on 45 different pairs and bought nada. Was it that I couldn’t find the right shade of brown? Were there no pumps to pump me up? (I am almost ashamed of that) Has Mootsies Tootsies run out of style? Or was it me? The boots failed to excite. The flats fell flat (I am ashamed of that one). There was nothing new under the fluorescent lights. I’m hoping it was just my mood, because damn I’d hate to lose my cure. I’ll try it again without children. It’s hard to focus holding a sticky hand.
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