Perfect for Hanging

(Special guest post by Pipistrelle)

Every day now, I get larger, and my feet seem to recede further into the void beyond my belly. I'd like to ignore them completely, maybe just pretend I'm zipping along on a little hovercraft like the ones advertised in the backs of comic books when I was a kid. I really wanted one of those hovercrafts, dammit. However, my feet also hurt - a lot. I'm heavier, almost a quarter of my starting weight heavier, and my feet hate this. They need care and attention to allow them to carry this monstrous load back and forth between the subway, my office, the bathroom and my bed (the only places I've visited in roughly six lifetimes now). I have to rub my feet a little, and I then I have to carefully place them inside comfy gym socks, atop orthotic insoles, and into friendly tennis shoes just to make the trek out the door each morning. Plus, I have to sit on a low bench to do this and laboriously haul each foot individually into the decreasing orbit of my arms and hands. This can use up so much energy that I don't really wake up until sometime around three p.m., usually in the middle of doing some legal research, which is dull enough that I go right back to sleep. 

How to make it easier, I thought, how to relieve just a little of the burden of dealing with the gigantic, swollen, tick-like thing I have become? Aha! A shoehorn! A really long-handled shoehorn, in fact, so I could just leave the tennis shoes tied, perhaps, and then winkle my pained feet straight into them without sitting down, thereby skipping all that bending and stretching and tugging. Perfect. 

But where could I acquire such an object? Shoehorns, especially elongated ones, are not thick on the ground these days. Temporarily stymied, I shelved the idea and slogged through several more days of foot pain and enormity. Then, while waddling to the library one afternoon, I spotted (mirabile dictu!) a genuine 99 cent store in the middle of midtown. Surely this place would have a shoehorn. That's precisely the sort of thing 99 cent stores exist for. 

Once inside, it was clear that I was on the right track. Hordes of bargain-seeking midtowners lurched from bin to bin, grabbing up off-brand shampoo, shot glasses with flaking NYPD logos, totebags printed with slogans for long-passed conferences of Iowan Data Entry Professionals, and children's products featuring cartoon characters who were, to a slightly-too-purple dinosaur, just close enough to certain copyrights to pass muster from a distance. The latter category included the single most sexually aggressive looking "Tinker Bell" I've ever seen in my life--she could have eaten me, Dope, and the neighbors' dog for breakfast, cut a swath through a phalanx of garbagemen, and devoured the Yankees' starting lineup without turning a hair. I was tempted, but pressed on, looking for my magical shoehorn. 

Then, gleaming in the fluorescence, I saw it. Pushing through a knot of people buying armloads of dollar store meat and frozen foods, I scooped up the following item--it had everything I was looking for, plus a handy chain that was perfect for hanging! Hanging what, I wasn't sure, but perfect, anyway. Dope has kindly photographed my find to share it with you, so enjoy, and think of me, and my poor, far-away feet. 

And maybe Tinker Bell.

Comments

[Nick]

The shoehorn looks great, but where did you buy it? I'm looking too.

[Goofer Golfer]

We have extra long shoehorns that we keep in our car trunks. They were bought in a golf store. We use them so we can put on our golf shoes while standing. Avoids bending over and exposing our broad expanse of fanny to the other cars entering the parking lot.

[The Captain & Toenail]

Any desire for a pedi this weekend?

Why bother? She won't be able to see her tootsies anyway.

[rachel]

Dollar store meat and frozen foods, huh? (Shudder) Any desire for a pedi this weekend?