{"id":2586,"date":"2003-10-21T17:41:44","date_gmt":"2003-10-22T00:41:44","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/defectiveyeti.com\/?p=2586"},"modified":"2003-10-21T17:41:44","modified_gmt":"2003-10-22T00:41:44","slug":"footnote","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/defectiveyeti.com\/wordpress\/2003\/10\/21\/footnote\/","title":{"rendered":"Footnote"},"content":{"rendered":"

Two weeks ago the morning bus was overcrowded, so I found myself standing in the aisle. The guy in the seat next to me kept looking at my feet and then glancing at my face. I resolutely pretended not to notice him, assuming that he was just irked that I was standing so close. I was all, like, “Yo: I’m<\/i> the one who got stuck standing, so what the hell is your<\/i> problem?! It’s public transportation you selfish moron — if you don’t like it, drive your hummer to work like your asshole friends!” Of course I said all this in a silence, seething, internal-monologue kind of way.<\/p>\n

Later, after arriving at my place of business and entering the elevator, a woman darted into the car just as the doors were closing. She jabbed the button for her floor, glanced at my feet, and shot me a quizzical look. I wasn’t sure what that<\/i> was all about, but as people in elevators are meant to be ignored I paid her no further mind.<\/p>\n

The elevator stopped at the second floor and another woman boarded. She took one glance at my feet and said “Can I ask you something?”<\/p>\n

“Suuuuure ….” I replied warily.<\/p>\n

“Why are you wearing two different shoes?”<\/p>\n

I knew the reason even before looking. That morning I had put on my “mowing shoes” (i.e., the old pair that I don’t care about) before sneaking into the neighbor’s yard to plant fake election signs<\/a>. Upon reentering the house I had kicked them off so as to not track mud on the carpet, and they had come to rest right next to my “work shoes” (i.e., the only pair I own respectable enough to be worn to the office). Then, running late, having squandered much of my morning on practical jokery, I scurried around the house grabbing my things, hastily “put on my shoes” in the entryway, and sprinted out the door.<\/p>\n

The thing is, I don’t really “put on my shoes” — a busy guy like me doesn’t have time for formalities like “bending over” and “tying laces.” What I typically do is cram my feet into the already-tied shoes, do a few ankle-twists, and complete the donning process with a couple of hearty stomps as I walk away. It never occurred to me that, in a harried and pre-caffinated state, this method might result in my sticking a left foot into one shoe and another foot into a similar-looking but different right shoe.<\/p>\n

[When telling this story to friends, The Queen interupts at this point and helpfully interjects: “Actually, the two shoes aren’t similar in the least. One is practically a boot.” Thanks, hon.]<\/p>\n

And sure enough: As I stood in the elevator and looked down, I discovered myself clad in one “mowing shoe” and one “work shoe.”<\/p>\n

But then, something inexplicable happened. Speaking immediately, and looking the woman right in the eye, I said, “Oh — heh heh, yeah. See, I’m wearing these because the other set is in my office.”<\/p>\n

The other set is in my — what the hell does that mean?! More importantly, where did it come from? I haven’t the foggiest notion. But it must have sounded convincing., because the woman looked chagrined and quickly replied “Oh … right,” followed by a little “duh — I should have figured that<\/I> out” laugh.<\/p>\n

A few seconds later we arrived at my floor, and I exited as quickly as my heteroshod feet could take me.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Two weeks ago the morning bus was overcrowded, so I found myself standing in the aisle. The guy in the seat next to me kept looking at my feet and then glancing at my face. I resolutely pretended not to notice him, assuming that he was just irked that I was standing so close. I […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2586","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-storytelling"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/defectiveyeti.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2586","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/defectiveyeti.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/defectiveyeti.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/defectiveyeti.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/defectiveyeti.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2586"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/defectiveyeti.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2586\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/defectiveyeti.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2586"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/defectiveyeti.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2586"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/defectiveyeti.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2586"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}