I'VE COME A LONG WAY, TOO, BABY

You see, I've found a pair of flip flops. That I can wear. For years my sockless feet were exposing bare toes to the elements out of sandals that had no strap between Mr. Big and Mr. Next Big Toe. I read something about people whose second toe (index toe) exceeded the length of the big toe, or was it the ring finger exceeding the length of the index finger? But I don't remember what I read, so why did I bring it up in the first place?

At a Dillards store, the not too pushy salesman told me try on a pair of Ecco flip flops, on sale 50% off. When I informed him that I didn't like the feel of the strap cutting into that touchy, tickly place between the two aforementioned toes he said, "Trust me. These are the best flip flops in the store." Now they're my best pair of shoes, though I'm pretty partial to a pair of cushy Crocs that currently separate my feet from cold tile in our house.

I have referred to wearing flip flops in a generic sense much like those who refer to Cokes as any soft drinks, but I was never comfortable in them. And no, mine are red as in the picture. Isn't that a cool picture I lifted from one of my FarmVille friend's profile?

My flippies are jet black and I'm near no beach. If I placed mine in a heart pattern, it would be like black roses. Maybe I could place them in the snow, making a gothic photo. But as much as I like the beach and flip flops now, I don't think you'll ever catch me in bright red ones. Unless that salesman could convince me.