I bought myself a nice pair of Crocs that don’t look like Crocs for my upcoming Europe trip. They resemble a Sperry Top Sider and are a nice neutral beige color. I was planning on wearing them on my plane ride to Paris and possibly use them on one of our many walking days through Spain’s plains.
I love to walk and I enjoy the comfort of a good walking shoe. Unfortunately, I was given the curse of the raised sole by someone I now suspect may lack an ‘other type’ of soul herself.
Maria, travel companion extraordinaire, Mike’s fair lady, married to my cousin for almost half a century, who made the trek from Camarioca, Cuba with me almost fifty years ago and is flying overseas with me in October, rendered my new shoes all but worthless when she used the magic of her powerful tongue to entice my blessed feet to know the pain of the Crocs logo.
Let me explain.
Crocs have a raised emblem on the inside of the shoe that typically acts as support for the arch of the foot, promotes good posture and improves back and core stability. I truly don’t know if any of this is true, but I know I can normally walk a thousand miles in my ugly Crocs, so naturally I was expecting the same from my more attractive ones.
Maria saw my shoes and said in a language known only as Marienglish (clearly the tongue of spells) ‘You no think dat choo is going to hurt dee inside of jor feet?’
That is all it took.
Every nerve on the bottom of my foot stood in attention and came to life almost as if they had been summoned by the call to prayer by a very special sorceress. Those nerves lit their torches and proceeded to parade up and down my feet making their presence known.
I wore my shoes to a baseball game we went to on my Mom’s birthday and by end of day, the bottom of my feet felt as if I had walked through fire, the Crocs emblem branding itself onto the bottom of my foot and my once pretty beige shoes becoming a symbol of all things red and hot and vile in life.
The curse of the sole placed on me by the curse of the surely (or in this case) shoely soulless, had taken hold.
These Crocs would never see the light of another day.
And, thanks to Mike’s Fair Lady, Maria, the Crocs would never touch European soil, they would never run through the rain in Spain nor even make it on to the plains and much less, the plane.