Dear People Who Hear Me Walk and See Me Sit

i want to express my greatest apologies that on weekdays your ears have likely mistaken me for an attractive woman wearing "fuck me" stilettos, or-- at the very best-- a lonely satyr walking with a purpose.

it's these cursed italian shoes.

their soles are solid wood and make a rather loud clip-clop sound every time i take a step.

i know that when i walk behind you, you're hearing that clip-clop and judging my stride, wondering what size my breasts are and whether or not i'm a slut or just one of those sophisticated ladies who wear glasses when they very well could wear contacts simply because glasses make them appear more authoritative-- and if so, you're wondering if i've already developed that large, awkward-shaped, ass that some people get from sitting in a swivel chair the majority of their lives.

then you turn to find out who i am, but it's just me. i have long hair and a feminine physique, but i am-- unfortunately for you-- a male with rather loud shoes.

i'm sorry to have let you down.

i hate these shoes because i can see it in all of your eyes: you're all so thoroughly disappointed that you had mistaken the sound of wooden soles for that of party heels-- or even business heels.

but you see i bought these shoes when i was a tour guide and had too much money to spare. i bought them specifically because i wanted to see if it might magically make italians start tipping. unfortunately, it did not. it just made mid-westerners stop tipping me.

me and these god damn elf-shoes.

they're the only formal shoes i've got. and i'm sorry.

and now that i've moved further away from work, the walk is taking a toll on my body. you see, i've got to wear orthodics in all of my shoes because my pelvis is slanted, which causes my legs to be uneven sizes and my back to twist uncomfortably.

the orthodics are meant to even that all out. and they make me feel great.

but in these clip-clop fools' shoes my orthodics can't be worn. orthodics can never be worn in shoes with heels. so too much walking while wearing these italian torture devices thoroughly pains my skeleton.

then when i get to work, i slump into my seat, twisting my spine in a manner that comforts me. i throw my legs out and lean deep into my ridiculous swivel chair and you watch me, thinking, "look at this fucker with his distressed leather shoes, leaning waaaay back like he thinks he's so damn cool."

i want to apologize if you've seen my way of sort of melting into a chair with no regard of proper posture and misinterpreted it for an attempt to be cool. the fact is i have a bad back and it's one of the only ways i can sit.

besides, i'm aware it is impossible to be cool when you have had to wear orthodics since you were eleven years-old. it's like having braces when you're thirty.

and these fucking shoes are making me worse.

so i want to apologize again for any false preconceptions caused by the loud sounds of my loafers or the vision of me relaxing in my chair.

to the men: i am sorry to have sounded like a hot bitch.

to the women: i am sorry i am not nearly as cool as i look when i'm sitting.

to my god forsaken italian shoes: i hate you and as soon as i get another paycheck you're being replaced.

pathetically,
president wishnack