Big foot

I went to a shoe store today, in an effort to eradicate all traces of savings from my bank account. Now, before I proceed any further, I must inform you that my feet are slightly larger than average – not abnormally so, but they’re not dainty by any means – and I have been called such names as Big Foot in the past (thanks, Jags, for scarring me for life!)

So I was browsing through the selection of shoes, trying to decide between the slippers with the black beads and the ones with the tan beads, when a voice to my left drew my attention. Holding up a horror in neon green, the woman demanded, “Who with size nine feet would wear neon green shoes?” (yes yes, my name is Inihtar, and I wear size nine shoes.)

Her companion, clearly trying to make up for her lack of diplomacy, responded, “Why? People with size nine feet can’t wear neon green shoes?”

The first woman, obviously unwilling to give up on her argument, answered: “Well, if you have such huge feet, you shouldn’t be drawing attention to them.”

Now, I was following along in this conversation, chuckling to myself, until the realization hit me that I was part of the group she was berating. Startled, I attempted to make up by sending a potent glare in her direction – not that I wear neon green shoes, but I would like the opportunity to do so without being the object of contempt of some loud-mouthed female who is clearly unaware of the tribulations of having large feet – but she was blissfully unaware that she had ruffled any feathers in the number nine section.

As she trotted off to one of the smaller sizes, I sighed to myself. After all, I am a trained journalist and I can’t get worked up over criticism of my shoe size. So instead, I found a better way to drown my foot problems – I went and bought myself a pair of shoes in size 8.5.