Black Socks

I wear slacks and dress shoes to work. Unlike my wife, an RN, who gets to wear pajamas and sneakers, I have to try to look like the folks who judge me. I have to look like an accountant, or an MBA, PHD, a bore.

So anyway, I have to match my black shoes with black socks. Every workday morning it seems to be the same dang thing. Grab a sock. What next? Well grab another sock of course. So I grab a matching black sock. No. Not matching. This one is a shade lighter than the first. Don't match. Grab another. Oh wait, this one has a line down each side. Another. Oh, it's got a dark line across the toes. Another. It has faint checks. Another has diamonds, another is another shade wrong. My golly dang. I can often grab a dozen socks and not one of 'em matches. What the hell is that all about?

"Well don't buy different kinds of socks" you have no doubt thought at me. But I don't. I'm a guy. When I go to the store to buy black socks that's all I do. Unlike unpredictable women, a guy, unless he's some sort of girlie guy, will go into a department store, walk straight to the area that has what he came to buy, and will grab and go. A guy will spend 13 seconds in shopping mode and 10 times that much time standing in line. A woman, well let's not talk about it. We don't have time right here to cover all that is necessary to mention when a woman goes shopping.

So here I go, buying black socks and black socks only. Then I get them home and toss them in the black sock corral, and what the hell happens in there is bizarre. Let them sit for just a few minutes and suddenly they've changed form. They've gone and changed from good old black socks into something eerie, something forbodeing, something terrible. They change into something other than black. And they all change. None of them change into something that is the same as another black sock. All the socks in my sock basket are non-matches. Some may come close but none of them match. I'm sure you're going to think at me that "Oh well, your socks don't match. I'll bet you have another pair just like them at home". But no I don't. I don't have any socks that match.

I've told Ms Donna that I'm pretty certain there's a burglar jerk that sneaks into our house at night and redesigns my socks. He/she must spend countless minutes sneaking through my sock drawer and meticulously changing and morphing and destroying my recently bought pairs.

I'm wearing matchless socks now. No one knows it at this moment but I can be exposed at any time. What if I go to a meeting and cross my legs. Sometimes you can get away with that but too often, there's a bit of sock showing. What if I want, as is my want, to put my legs on the desk? What then? What might THEY see? What if someone notices that my socks are not kosher. What if someone - especially a woman. Of course it's going to be a woman. We all know that you can't get by with non-perfect when you're around a woman. Like Ms Donna's "Are you going to wear that?" That's what women do. What if someone notices my socks don't match. They'll then start thinking bad things about me. "If his socks don't match then what must his underwear look like? What must his brain contain? How can this man perfect our computer program if he can't even dress himself properly?

Yes, I've heard there's a website that will send you matching black socks on a regular basis as you go through life getting older and doing other things than shopping for socks. I could try that website but I know what would happen. They'd morph. It's something about my sock drawer. There's something unknown about my life that turns socks bad. I'm sure I'm not the only one who has this problem.

I've thought about this dilemma for a long time. Probably for a good two or two and a half minutes. I've decided that I can change this probably massive manly problem and quite possibly finance my looming retirement on top of it. I'm going to start painting my feet. Since I can control the paint and no burglar or vandal or trickster can change my feet without my noticing, and thereby without my permission, I will never have non-matching black feet. I can try all sorts of different paints and applications. It won't be long before I have it down and people nowhere will ever buy socks again. They will all buy my feet paint.

What a fabulous idea! Finance my retirement and save the world all at the same time. Watch for it on the evening news. You can say, "Hey. I've heard about that".