A Day In the Life of a Lonely Loafer

Woke up alone this morning. Just like every morning. After all, who would go home with a penny loafer? No one. That's who. Sometimes I just wish he'd go to the bowling alley and rent a pair for the evening. It beats being alone. Of course, there's always the possibility of getting a fungus. You never know where those shoes have been.

Ran downstairs to check the mail. Pajama bottoms and loafers. That's an attractive ensemble. Oh God, here comes the girl with the purple and green sundress and those painfully sexy flip flops. Play it cool, man, play it cool. Uh, she didn't even look over here. Too busy glaring down those espadrilles. If only she knew those espadrilles had nothing on her. She is magnificent.

Some days I wish I had been made designer flip flops. How can you not be carefree and happy when you're a flip flop? Besides, designer flip flops get all the girls. And they're such jerks, to boot. (That's a little shoe humor there.) Why do nice loafers always finish last? Maybe I give off that workaholic vibe. Maybe I just scream office square.

Showed up for work late today. I can tell it's going to be another great day. Saw some ridiculously embellished flip flops on the subway. So that's how the other half lives? Must be nice. Tired of being the working class hero of footwear. I'll never see beaches or pool sides. I'd stand out like a stubbed toe against a sea of hot, sexy flip flops. I'd be a laughing stock.

Say, Eddie got some new aglets. It's nice to see a shoe of advancing years maintaining his laces. Wouldn't it be great to look like Eddie when I get to be his age? He's probably getting more foot action than I am right now. By the time I get to be his age, I'll probably be in that big Goodwill on 54th and Lee.

He's looking at some designer flip flops online. Pipe dreams, my friend. Mere pipe dreams. You'll be a loafer man until the day you die, and you know it. There's no embellished flip flops snazzy enough to get the girl in the sun dress to pay one modicum of attention to you. What happened to the days when a man's shoes were a reflection of his virility? If that were the case, a new pair of treads really could remedy all your problems. But not now. No, you are destined to spend your life admiring from afar.

If you were a classier man, you could probably pull off a pair of wingtips. Give the impression that you're more important than you are. Girls seem to dig that: important, well-to-do men. After all, flip flops are good for a romp, a fling, a bit of fun, but wing tips are the kind of shoes you take home to mama.

Five o'clock. Time to go home. Hope he doesn't run into little miss sun dress in the hall. I don't think I can face her kicks, seeing as they've been out living it up all day, and I've been imprisoned in a tiny cubicle. I just need rest and relaxation. Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day.

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