These aren’t my shoes.
Seriously! These aren’t my shoes! I just this morning realized that these aren’t my shoes, and it’s really creeping me out!
You know how in dreams things are familliar, but subtly different? Like how in Invasion of the Body Snatchers those alien pods replaced people with
replicas, but they were imperfect replicas because they didn’t have emotions, but nobody noticed because it was Leonard Nimoy? It’s like that. It’s like somebody
with sinister intent snuck in my house in the middle of the night and replaced my shoes with just a subtly different versions. Sure, they look like my shoes. Size
ten and a half. Brown leather with that kind of waffle-y textured black rubber sole. Kind of a cross between a formal shoe and a combat boot. But there are these
creepy, subtle differences.
First off, the nose (or tip, or point, or whatever they call the place where your toes goes) is all one piece of leather. Whereas the nose of my shoes were
stitched up pieces, sort of like a loafer.
Secondly, there was a little coffee stain on my shoes. These ones are brand new.
Third: Hi Opal.
Fourth, these shoes here are Sketchers. My shoes were – well, actually I haven’t a clue what they were, but I suspect they weren’t Sketchers.
My first thought was that maybe my girlfriend had somehow destroyed my shoes and replaced them with these. Kind of like that cliché sitcom situation where
somebody manages to kill little Betty/Bobby’s pet rabbit and they try to replace it on the sly – except the spots don’t quite match, and it’s suddenly a female one,
and pregnant. But my GF has assured me she didn’t replace my shoes, and is convinced I have merely lost track of them. Only she could envision having shoes
enough to lose track of.
I have no other theories. So whoever did this, fess up!!