It Wouldn’t Be A New Season If I Wasn’t Trying to Buy Something Seemingly Simple But Obviously Impossible

There were two kinds of rubber boots for sale at Zellers. Men’s and Women’s.

In the men’s section:
Green rubber boots, 6 pairs, all size 13.
Yellow rubber boots, lined with foamy insulation, 10 pairs, various sizes. Impossible to walk in. Twice the width of my not-unsubstantial calf.
Black rubber boots, just like the yellow ones.

In the women’s section:
Black rubber boots with design painted on to make boot look like cowboy boot, I think. There were flowers. On the boot. 10 pairs, various sizes up to and including 10.
But narrow like to fit a Barbie foot. I so don’t have a Barbie foot.

Since when are there 3 styles of men’s anything to 1 style of women’s anything?

Dear Universe:
I want a boot made of rubber that will keep my feet dry. Because in case you hadn’t heard; it’s November, we’re washing out to sea this weekend and if I don’t get out for my daily walks my soul bleeds.

Also in Zellers? A man in business slacks and a checkered shirt. About 5’6″. His little belly flopped over the top of his slacks. Short haircut to disguise his thinning hair. Round glasses. On his cell phone. Walking quickly as he talked.

“Oh, come on. Do you really think – I mean, I’m sorry I come across as such a hard ass, but you know, I really get emotional about this kind of thing. When this deal is over – jeez – I’m gonna – ”

He kept talking as he fingered through packages of Jockey briefs, looking for his size.

I found this completely hilarious. Am I 5 years old? Maybe.

At the Bay I found the perfect rubber boots. They were yellow, rubber, flat soled, wide. How much, Wally? $60!

Yes! $60! Because my ass is ripe for the plowing. As Saint Aardvark says, rather ominously,”If they’re $60, they’re not rubber boots.”

Next stop: Army and Navy.