• Hello. It’s me again; your fabulous shoe. What, you don’t remember our earlier conversations? Really? Well I suppose we can get around to discussing your alarmingly short memory span some other time, but I have a bone to pick with you now. I honestly don’t feel like you appreciate me to the extent that I deserve. Have I not served you faithfully since the day you picked me from the shelf? Aside from the blister or two that your heals acquired, and believe me I do apologize for that. At first I was ecstatic that my twin and I were selected out of the many other options to work with you, but I’ve now come to the conclusion that I should have been despairing rather than joyous. Forgive me if I sound rude, I’m just trying to get a few things off of my chest (it’s just a figure of speech, don’t take it seriously).

    I must admit that while I find it so enjoyable to be viciously stomped on all day, I don’t exactly want to be thrown willy-nilly across the room when you are finished with me. Your feet are cramped from the confinement and you wish to free them. I feel for you, truthfully I do. However, it is rather frightening to shoot through the air, usually to collide with something much denser than I am, and land some distance away from my twin. Who else am I going to chat with while you’re gone? A dust bunny? I don’t think so. Also, your ‘casual toss’ is an alarming acceleration to one who isn’t accustomed to moving without a foot to propel them. Please, I beg of you, just slip us off and set us gently in a place where you’ll remember us.

    This next issue may sound a little harsh, but it is the most important to me, and I want to be very clear about it. I am required to put up with your disgusting feet day after day, and yet you have the audacity to be frustrated with the way I smell. That putrid stench that I have is your fault, I’ll have you know! I don’t care if you shower twice a day; if you don’t send me through a washing machine once in a while, I’m not exactly going to smell like a bed of roses. I enjoy being clean, it means I can attract more positive attention (alright, I admit it, I am vain).

    Finally, I want to discuss retirement. When I am falling apart at my seams and drooping from extensive wear, I would rather not go out with the next load of trash. Don’t you dare give me that innocent look; the socks told me what happened to my predecessors. I want to be rewarded for my service to you, not shunned away as if I meant nothing. I do not mind that you will replace me some day, I just want to be cherished even if I am no longer useful. Is that asking too much? Am I being too forward for your liking? I’m positive that you would want the same if you were in my shoes. You see, I can crack a joke even if I’m upset. That does not in any way imply that the issue is not important to me. I just want to relate to you. I’m rambling, aren’t I? Moving on…

    I sincerely hope that you will remember what I’ve said this time, and take my requests into consideration. I won’t get my hopes up in any case. You will probably just dismiss this as your psychotic brain hallucinating on you once again due to the stress levels of school, or your job, or whatever it is that you do now. I am at the point where I just enjoy the ranting, and the expression on your face when you realize your shoe is talking to you is priceless. I suppose I can cross my laces and dream of a day when you will be more gracious to me or any of the generations of shoes that will come after me. I am a little cranky, but I feel that I have been generous, and I would like for you to return the favor.