Because shoes should not equal torture devices

Shoe shopping for me is on par with plucking nose hairs: embarrassing and painful. I’m pretty sure my feet are abnormal in and of themselves, and then I have to wear custom orthotics which ups the crap factor by about a zillion. If I could go barefoot everywhere and not have life-altering muscle spasms, I’d do it. Screw shoes and their toe-impeding ways. But since I need shoes along with my shirt to get service, I’m stuck buying them on occasion.

A few days ago, I decided that I needed some black shoes to wear to an upcoming banquet. I’ll be tromping around frozen New York City, so I can’t get away with “dressy” flip flops or Dr. Scholl’s Slipper shoes. After trying on approximately eleventy million pairs of black shoes at this shoe warehouse (it was a big place), I found some Easy Spirit lace up deals that were passable. I went up to pay for them.

Cashier: Did you find everything all right?

Me: Yes, thanks.

Cashier: Going for comfort today, huh?

Me: ?

Me: What?

Cashier: Easy Spirit. They’re supposed to be really comfortable. So you were looking for comfort, right?

Me: (in my head) Well, I usually like my shoes filled with tiny, salted daggers…

Me: (aloud) Everyday.

Cashier: Uh… OK, have a nice day.

Clearly there’s something about shoes that I don’t get….

(I can't wear these because orthotics won't stay in mules. I'm crying on the inside.) 
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