This is something I wrote in May but never published on Foolery. Since I am writing about Mervyn's today I thought I'd put it up.
Picked up a
new pair of shoes last night. I was in a hurry, trying to hustle the two little
girls (in their brand new Cute Little Girl shoes -- everybody say AWWWWWWW)
through the store to the cash register.
"But Mama," says Smedley, "Aren't YOU gonna get new shoes, too?"
Indeed. You have learned well, Grasshopper.
Trouble was, I had almost NO time and we were in Mervyn's, which is not high on my list of places to shoe shop without irony. So I pretty much grabbed something, shoved my foot into it, checked the price, and headed for the register.
So, of course, I had to wear them today. My regret over the cheapness of the shoes was soon overshadowed by something much more sinister, much less expected.
The shoes make FART SOUNDS when I walk.
I kid you not. Phffp, Phffp, Phffp down the hall. Phffp, Phffp, Phffp to the bathroom. Phffp, Phffp, Phffp to the copy machine.
I want to scream, "IT'S NOT ME, I SWEAR! IT'S THESE DAMN SHOES!" But I'm counting on the poor hearing and lack of imagination of my coworkers to save me from mortal embarrassment.
Now if the damn shoes smell, too, they're in the trash.