Shock!

You may have been writing about your life too long if you go to write about some aspect of your personality and think: but have I written this before? and then spend 20 minutes going through your own archives looking for a post about that aspect of your personality but finding nothing.

Have I told you about the shock thing?

I have a shock thing. When I get a shock – through overenthusiastic static, generally – I grimace and shout “motherfucker.” I can’t help it. Now, these days I have to shout “motherfucker” into my shoulder or purse or whatever is handy because I live with Laurel and Hardy but I still cannot stop myself. I am very sensitive to electricity. That thing where you shuffle your feet over the carpet and then pat me on the shoulder and go ha ha ha? I will kill you.

Playgrounds! Geezus. Plastic slides slid down by children with plastic shoes! And what if they fall at the end and they want a hug? “NO HUGGING MOMMY! I AM COMFORTING YOU VERBALLY FROM A DISTANCE!”

Driving! Wrong-soled shoes on the pedals and then the floor mat of the car and then I get out onto the floor of the underground parking and the floor is treated with some weird rubber coating stuff and I go to lock my car door and ZAP. Motherfucker.

So when I buy shoes, if the shoes do not conduct electricity through their soles, I will wear those shoes all the time. I am less fussy about this than I used to be, because I used to work in an office and that’s a lot of ‘motherfucker’ in an otherwise quiet and relatively polite environment. These days I am mostly outside. But still, this is one of those things that makes it even harder to find The Perfect Shoes.

Shoes that Shock Me:

My running shoes. Only to be worn if not driving, and not going into any stores or the library.
My flip flop crocs. Water park only. NO DRIVING IN CROCS.

Shoes that Sometimes Shock Me:

The cute plaid sneakers. Walking to the park only. Probably best not to drive in the cute sneakers.

Shoes that Do Not Shock Me:

My rubber boots.
My winter boots.
My favourite sandals, 2 years old, by Naot.
Dress shoes, generally, but I don’t get out much.

As it is summer, I am wearing the sandals every day. As a bonus, they are the most comfortable shoes on the planet and I can walk for miles x The Who and not get blisters or sore knees or bunions or anything. (yes I know bunions are not applicable in this case but I like saying bunions.)

However. This is what happened a few weeks ago and again this past weekend: I went to Superstore. I was pushing a cart around Superstore. I love Superstore! But on these two occasions, every once in a while I would be turning a corner or stopping to look at the sale cookies and ZAP.

From the floor (did they repaint it with electricity?) through my perfect sandals (is the rubber wearing out?) ZAP into my hands on the handle of the cart. ZAP. This has never happened to me before. It was most terrible.

Superstore, it made me not want to spend too much more time in your store. Ever. It made me want to leave the cart in the toilet paper isle and run for the door. And, most importantly, it made my ordinarily lovely solo shopping trip to Superstore into a battle of epic proportions, Good Vs. Evil! complete with a lot of swearing. I might have bought the wrong kind of noodles, I was so distracted by the random ZAPpery.

You know there is a wrong kind of noodles, right?

Today I took the children to Metrotown. Hey, they wanted to go to Metrotown, they were specific. I needed to get Fresco a pair of shoes – but that’s another story. We found some at Winners and then I took a peek in the size 11 isle for me and wow – a pair of Keens sandals in size 11. I have looked in vain for size 11 Keens before. And they were only $50, half their usual price. I tried them on and they fit.

Incidentally, if you are a real sucker for punishment, I recommend taking two children under the age of 10 to a store where the shoes are on shelves from the floor to the ceiling.

Anyway, the Keens. They are made of squishy, rubber-like material. They make me nervous, shock-wise, so I left them there.

But I can’t stop thinking about them. I could wear them in lakes and rivers. And even though I don’t have a paying job, I still believe in “if the shoe fits and is half price, it’s a miracle and the unicorns would want you to buy the damn shoe.”

But what if they make me shout motherfucker all the time? I will have to wear them while driving.

Should I buy them and shuffle my feet all over the mall before I take the price tag off?

Should I just get my Naots resoled?

Should I train myself to say ‘unicorns’ instead of ‘motherfucker’?

What do you guys think?

(Oh and the reason I have the shock thing, I think, is because in grade 3 I plugged in the film projector and got electrocuted. Just enough to make me Magical, not enough to actually fry anything. I’m pretty sure. Although I do have a little freckle where the burn occurred.)

(Did you know I was Magical? It’s true.)