Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Can't We Do Better in the Squishy Footwear Department?

Throughout college and several years afterward, I had the perfect pair of bunny slippers. Over the years, they become so decrepit and hole-ridden that they ceased to be functional. I couldn't bring myself to get rid of them, but the Object refused to let them come into the apartment when I moved in. I compromised by asking the Object to quietly dispose of them for me when I wasn't around, and never speak of it again. The unintended side effect? Whenever my feet get cold, I look at the Object and a gnawing, resentful voice reminds me, that's the asshole that got rid of my perfect bunny slippers. HE DID THIS TO YOU!!!

I can't replace the slippers, because I feel bad for the ones he threw away. But the Object refuses to "condescend" (his words) to my simple, reasonable request that he assuage my anxiety with some sort of redeeming Velveteen Bunny Slippers story, wherein the bunny slippers come alive and live happily ever after, reveling in what I imagine is the nexus of existence for any urban rodent, namely the dumpsters behind Mixtec. It's a magical place.

Plagued with cold feet and tired of resenting the Object for them, I figured I'd just have to bite the bullet and get new slippers. For a little while, I thought I'd try to replace my old slippers, fairy tales be damned. But alas, replicas are nowhere to be found. In fact, I don't understand how an entire store devoted to bunny apparel has an entire pink ninja bunny outfit, but not one single pair of bunny slippers.

I figured if my bunny slippers were truly irreplaceable, I'd go branch out to other rodent-themed slippers. But , the dead rat slippers nipped that idea in the bud.

I turned my search to non-rodent slippers, and turned up Heelarious, squishy high heels for the infant crowd. It's not often one is faced with a product more appalling than a baby-sized velour track suit with SLUT printed across the but. My search continued, and I learned that interesting slippers are arbitrarily categorized. I'm not sure if Pikachu really warrants consideration in the genre of "wackiest slippers," but I'll definitely grant that penis slippers belong there.

I'm not quite sure what to do anymore about my poor, blue feet. It's a slippery slope from trying to find the perfect pair of slippers to waltzing around town in your Zorro p.j.s. Do I risk it, or just shove my cold feet under the Object whenever I curl into bed?


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