"If even dying is to be made a social function, then, grant me the favor of sneaking out on tiptoe without disturbing the party" - Dag Hammarskjold

The fact that they exist for all of us...those items for which we conceive a wholly irrational dislike...despite the other 99.9% of the population finding them totally acceptable...is no help whatsoever. The fact that they affect you that way is enough...especially if you find yourself in the situation of being forced to buy them.

My own nemesis is the sneaker...not being of an athletic temperament I haven't owned a pair since childhood...something that I was fine with as, on my foot, they've always reminded me of the "special" child in class (the one that collects bits of old radios and sits by themselves for no determinable reason). Yet, the time had come where...according to my podiatrist...I had to buy a pair.

Cursing foot injuries in general...and my own particular complaint in particular...prescription firmly clutched in hand...and sure in the knowledge that if I ever want to be rid of this walking cast certain concessions must be made...I entered New Balance...only to be confronted with the slightly sexist reality that if I were a man I could choose from retro greens, browns, blues, and oranges...while as a woman I had to vocally stand my ground to avoid pale pinks and greys.

Thankfully I was able to find one pair that were predominantly black...equally thankfully Mr. Heb is a man of his word who blocked my escape route so that I was forced to concede to the inevitable and make a purchase. While I can't say I love them...it could have been worse...



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