This Lil' Piggy Went To....

Truancy is sometimes necessary, even as an adult. Come along with me as I skip out on work one day and enjoy the (temporary) freedom from responsibility.

These guys take so much abuse. I step all over ‘em all day long. I cram ‘em into shoes they really hate. I put sox on ‘em so they feel like they're smothering. They get so hot sometimes I can hear ‘em whining. You don't know scary ‘til you've heard the sole-ful mourning of feet. I remember the first time I heard it. It sounded like the muffled whine lil' puppies make from behind a closed door when they really want to be let loose. When they want to run and frolic and play, then lie down in the imaginary hole they just spent two and a half minutes digging and nod off. This must be the reason people sometimes refer to their feet as dogs. They've heard the whining. And if ya let it go on too long, it turns into barking… thus the phrase, "my dogs were really barking by the end of the day."

 

I can't help but wonder why we do it. Cavemen didn't wear sox and shoes. Nowhere in the historical record do we read about whining feet.

I only do it 'cuz society and my boss make me. You must wear steel toed boots to work. You may not wear open toed shoes. No shirt, no shoes, no service. Babies can get away with not wearing shoes. We all oooohhhh and ahhhhhh at their cute lil' toes that never stop wriggling. People take one look at my toes and go ‘ewwwwwww... what's wrong with your pinky?’ I have a corn from stuffing them into shoes without enough room for all of my toes every day. Who decided that a callous should be named for a vegetable that most of us like to eat anyway? That's just wrong. Why couldn't they call it a blob or a bluganoose or, well hell, any word they could make up would work. That's the trouble with Merriam-Webster types… no imagination.

 

One day my feet had had enough. They revolted. They sent a message to my brain that said shut down this cash register and run! My fingers tried to resist but the feet were just too strong. The left one was tap, tap tapping out something like morse code and the right was humming softly waiting for its big moment. So I did it. I signed off my register and tip-toed to the back of the store.

 

My name badge in hand, hovering above the time clock, I hesitated and listened. I swear I could hear my feet singing Born free. I suddenly remembered someone telling us we need to listen to our bodies. But at what price? If I left work for no good reason these feet could be pounding the pavement seeking new employment. I looked all around me like I was committing some sort of felony and then without another thought, I had swiped my name badge through that hungry, hungry clock. I waited, my jaw tightly clenched, hands curled into fists, all my muscles taut, ready for flight. But there was only silence. No sirens. No managers. Nothing.

 

My clandestine behavior gave me a swift adrenaline rush and I began skipping through the store when These boots were made for walking  rang through my ears. Impulsively my feet began doing The Bristol Stomp  as I boldly danced through the double doors out into the sunshine.

 

I went through intervals of courage and cowardice all the way to my car. Once there I had a renewed burst of energy and quickly stripped my shoes and sox away and threw them in the back. My toes curled up into a smile and I dived into the driver’s seat. I drove with the windows down and the A/C blaring. I know… kinda defeats the whole idea of cooling down. But I needed the freedom of the breeze all around me. I had no plans for my truancy so I just drove to see where these feet would take me.

 

There were tunes in my head… I can see clearly now the rain is gone….Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy… I feel duh duh duh duh duh duh duh So good, so fine… On the road again, I just can't wait to get on the road again. Then I was there. I jumped out of the car… then had to go back to turn off the engine. But I was there. I slid down the bank in my bare feet and plunged them both into the cool refreshing water of the Spring River. I think I must have been singing some sort of aria in an unfamiliar key because when I looked around fishermen and mallards alike were staring at me. I guess they've never seen happy feet before. I just smiled, threw my head back and enjoyed the moment. How many of these could you get in a lifetime?

 

There's a lot to be said for spontaneity. Or as my boss called it when I was summoned into her office the next day, insubordination. I thought my explanation would merit forgiveness, if not, then surely a giggle. "I was powerless to stop. My heart heard a voice and I felt compelled to follow my sole".

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

a "bluganoose" great idea...i love that...why name a callous after a vegetable most of us like...

this was a fun read...serious undertones...sometimes we cram too much into the space that is our lives...and by doing that we destroy our feet, and never really get to enjoy much of the life we are hurrying through.

did you ever see "Finding Forrester"?

what he said about why he wears his socks inside out? because they are made wrong and the inside part hurts our feet.

thanks for the ride...will be back to read more of your stories.

jacob

[Anniebugg]

Hey Jacob, thank you for coming over and spending your time reading my work. I'm glad it got you tickled. You're very observant, noticing those serious undertones. I don't believe I ever saw Finding Forrester, but I agree with his assesment about socks. I feel the same way about my bathrobe and have taken to wearing it inside out.
I want to read more of your stories as well, but this site doesn't seem to want to cooperate when I try to navigate my way around. Maybe it will be better in the morning.

Your comments and time spent here are much appreciated.

[Samuel Dickens]

Anniebug--you, like I, are an arkie, and therefore endowed with special, freedom-loving feet. I used to kick my shoes off every March and began building up those calluses I'd need for walking all summer on hot railroad tracks, rocky creekbeds, and sticker-infested cow pastures. (How else can you get to the swimming hole?) It was only after I joined the Navy that they made me wear shoes every danged day! So, thanks for this compelling story of happy feet!

[Anniebugg]

Hi Sam! You're right about that. Oh how I loved to walk everywhere barefoot when I was a child. I didn't grow up in Arkansas, but I spent the first several years of my life in Florida before the family moved to New York and then to the Pacific Northwest of the left coast. But a little rain didn't deter me from shucking those shoes every chance I got. I loved the cricks (hehe) of the south, never giving thought to lurking dangers. I was a kid, what did I know? I'm so glad you liked this story. It was really a fun write for me. Thanks for coming by and commenting, Sam. Maybe one day Mic and I can come visit your Arkansas. :)

[Samuel Dickens]

You two are welcome anytime. My house is shoes-optional.