I don’t have a foot fetish. You hear of people that do. Or maybe that’s just on Seinfeld. But it seems that it is a thing with some people.
BY DEAN MEYER
Do you remember that Marcos lady? Wasn’t it Imalda or something like that? That had thousands of pairs of shoes.
I don’t have that many. I have a pair of lined lace up boots that I wear in the winter to help keep my toes from turning black and falling off. I sometimes have a pair of dress western boots that I wear to weddings and funerals. But when my work boots wear out, which takes several years, the dress boots become “work and dress” boots. That is where I am right now. And they will suffice until the next wedding or funeral.
I have a pair of slip on shoes that are about ten years old. I know they are at least that old because they have paint on them. I don’t paint often. And I know it was painting the entryway up at The Ranch. That’s been a long time ago.
I do have a pair of shoes I wear for golf. They aren’t golf shoes. They are a suede leather and don’t have spikes. You can wear them on the golf course and they don’t scratch the floor when you go into the bar at the end of a tough day of golfing. I also wear them if I’m going to go through airport security. They are easier to take off than tight cowboy boots. I have fat feet.
And that pretty much wraps it up. Or it did. Until last week.
Shirley bought me a pair of shoes to wear by the pool. We don’t have a pool. But she insisted. And they didn’t fit. With socks on. She explained you don’t wear them with socks. Really? Shoes without socks? You’ve got to be kidding me. That would be like wearing your Wranglers with no underwear! Jesus Martha!
Anyway, I guess maybe I was a little critical. Or at least I didn’t jump up and exclaim how much I loved the shoes.
Which brings me to my make believe friend Shannon. He came up and helped us work some cattle on Saturday. Because we were having chicken and dumplings for dinner. He likes to eat.
We finished working the cattle about 1:30 and went in for dinner. He saw those new shoes and was more excited than a kid at Christmas! And they were my shoes!
He ooohhed and ahhhed over them. He even took his socks off and put on my shoes! Really! He put his bare feet in my new shoes! How am I to know where his feet have been? Jesus Martha!
He wanted to know where Shirley had purchased them. He wanted to know what they cost. He loved the color! And the good soles on them! He wanted to buy them.
When he left Shirley informed me, “That is how you should have acted when I bought you new shoes!”
After 45 years of marriage, I continually learn something.
And I will guarantee you one thing. After he had his bare feet in there, I am not wearing them without socks!
Dean Meyer is a former legislator and ranches in southwest North Dakota. He has been a columnist around the state for years.