What Shoe Talkin’ About!?

This afternoon, one of the boys at the Pilates studio was talking to his client about summer shoes. Flip flops were mentioned, and I gasped audibly. (You remember how I feel about flip flops, don’t you? If you don’t, please take a few moments to educate yourself. Then come right back. I’ll wait.) Of course, I couldn’t let the conversation continue without editorializing, albeit briefly.
When the chitchat extended to Birkenstocks, I nearly suffered a stroke. Just from the mention of the word. When the boy said I should try them, I almost lost a lunch I had back in ’86. In fact, I distinctly tasted a bit of matzoh ball amidst the bile, and had to shut my mouth so I wouldn’t ruin the carpet.
Honestly. I mean, come on. Do I really look like the kind of girl who would do the Birkenstock thing? Well, Jodi, you say, 99.4% of us have no idea what you look like, so how can we answer that? OK, so given what you “know” about me, you would know that much, right? And the boy at the studio who actually does know me and has seen my personal footgear should know better. “Please,” I said with a laugh masking my derision, “I shirkenstock the Birkenstock.”
What the hell? Does he want me to be a laughingstock?
I’m traumatized.