just call me seven

In Which I Mourn The Non-Seaworthiness Of Salt Waters.
5 December 2007, 10:49 pm
Filed under: I Am A Rat of the Packiest Variety, I'm a Big Dork, LaBloShoeMo

Day five of LaBloShoeMo.

I bring you… (drumroll please) Salt Water Sandals, official choice of children everywhere. And me.

Mine happen to be navy blue, and I just discovered tonight that one of the straps has come unsewn in the front of the left shoe. That is sad news indeed, and makes me wonder what my shoes are about in my shoe bucket that a sturdily sewn sandal could pop a strap, but I believe that somehow, I shall survive.

This is actually the second pair of Salt Waters I have owned, and they are exactly the same as my first pair. It’s a pretty funny story…

I went rafting down the Rogue River with my youth group one summer (long time ago… I was probably 16 or 17), and somehow had gotten in my head that because Salt Waters were called “Salt Waters” that they would probably be good shoes to wear in the water. I was mistaken of course… they were heavy and annoying. And when we got out of the water to jump off of this really tall rock into the river, I slipped and slid all over the place, because, let’s face it: Salt Waters have the least amount of traction out of any shoe on this green earth. I would rather hike in high heels, because at least they have a pointy part you can use for grip. So anyway… I made it to the top without killing myself, by the grace of God, so I jumped off.

You know how when you jump off the side of a pool, you take a quick breath and hold it? I did that, except I started running out of air, and I hadn’t hit the water yet. I had time to take 3 or 4 breaths before I finally hit… that’s how tall this rock was. I hit the water with a bang, and immediately started shooting back up, because I was chicken and wore my gay orange lifejacket. As I started getting sucked back to the surface, my right sandal was ripped from my foot. I tried to save it, but I was being pulled too fast to the surface. I came up and gasped for air, and tried to look around for my shoe, but the water was too muddy. I thought that maybe if I waited for awhile, it would show up, but I thought wrong. Did you know that Salt Waters sink to the bottom of a river faster than a lead factory would to the bottom of a puddle? Neither did I. I sat around wondering when my sandal was going to show up, and a slow puddle of dread formed in my gut. I took off the other sandal and did a test float… sunk like an anchor. I knew then that I would never see that right sandal again.

For some reason, I kept the left shoe for a long time… like a couple years. I’m not sure why. Perhaps I was waiting for someone to show up on my doorstep, Prince Charming-like, with the right one in hand, and say, “Excuse me, miss, but did you lose this on the Rogue last summer?” Then I would say, “Why, yes, I did… and here’s the other one!” And maybe then he would say, “I love your shoes… let’s get married,” or something equally ridiculous. And I would live happily ever after with both of my Salt Waters, and my Handsome Prince. Or maybe I thought that an amputee woman would have a garage sale one day, and I would happen to be there, and she would just happen to have one shoe that she didn’t need, and it would be a size 8 navy blue Salt Water sandal, the right one. And I would buy it for fifty cents, and THEN wouldn’t I be glad I’d hung on to the other one all these years?

Eventually I realized that I was the dumbest person on the planet, and that I was never going to come across just one sandal that would happen to be the correct size, color or style (not to mention that it had to be the RIGHT sandal), and that the space in my closet could be better devoted to other things.

A couple years ago, I was in Goodwill, checkin’ out the shoe section, and came across a pair of size 8, navy blue Salt Waters for somewhere around $4, so I snatched them up and hustled them home as fast as I could, where I proceeded to never wear them again (hardly ever).

Thanks to Smalls for her cute little face. You’re beautiful, sis.


Leave a Comment so far
Leave a comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: