An Unsolicited Rant

I hate shoes.


I know this is an insane topic. I should be spending my time talking about art, literature, schoolwork in a pinch... But no. Today I shall be cursing the need for footwear.

It would not be half as bad if stores sold cute shoes in my size. But no, cute tops out at nine or ten at best. This week, I have discovered, purely from necessity, that I can manage to wear a ten. It is illegal, understandably so, to wear open-toed shoes at the library where I work. I love my job, and most definitely do not want to create problems. Unfortunately, open-toed were all I had. My choice was either go home for the day and lose two hours (which I most definitely could not do, as I already lost the hours of this upcoming Sunday and Monday because of the holiday, and that is 25% of my entire paycheck) or I could, during my break, run downtown and buy a pair of shoes. The shoes cost me $12. I only earned $18 for the two hours I would have otherwise lost. Worth it? Yes, I'd say so, for I had to work yesterday as well (again, with closed-toed shoes) and that earned me $40 or so. Had I not purchased those shoes I would have lost $50 dollars, which is one seventh of my rent, and quite necessary to earn.

The shoes are black velvet, with pinstripes, and a bow on the toe. They have a solid heel, about two inches tall. They are, most importantly, closed-toed. The problem with them is this: the back isn't open. I would be fine with these if my heel were free, and could give my toes some respite. But alas, I felt akin to Roald Dahl's witches. Quite frankly, pointy shoes that crush the toes... ooh, ich ärgere mich darüber! Und, leid leid leid, ich habe mich mit diesen Schuhen verletzt. Yes, 'tis too true. Toes were turning pink... going numb... just general badness. It's my own damn fault for not buying a pair of shoes that actually fit. And yet, on break, I had fifteen minutes. I went to three stores in ten minutes. No one had shoes big enough. The first two stores did not even have closed-toed shoes. Darn summer fashions. I found myself in a big ol' fix. The good thing? I worked yesterday with none of the problems that so plagued me Friday. I do not have such an affinity for shoes that I will care about sparing it any wear and tear. I bent the backs underneath my heel and worked. The heel was free, dammit, whether or not the designer had intended it so.

Would that I could go around barefoot! I most definitely prefer the freedom of bare feet. I like the feeling I get when walking across grass or cool tile. I like how I feel graceful. I loved performing for FUBAR, because they required an absence of shoes and my movements felt smooth and elegant. Without footwear, I move more openly; I don't worry about tripping over my own feet.

The most important thing: when my feet are bare, my soul feels free.