Yea I occasionally wear Crocs. So what?
At least I wear them in colors that are incredible:
Or I wear them in colors that are amazing.
One night, Cassie and I decided to get ice cream at our favorite ice cream stand, On The Farm, in Latham, NY.
I was on line, minding my own business, waiting to order what I think was a medium coffee/chocolate soft serve twist in a dish, and all of a sudden, there’s a little boy, maybe 3 years old, creeping into my personal space. It’s cool, he’s a kid, he doesn’t know that it’s not appropriate to wobble into other peoples’ legs yet.
Next thing I know, the kid’s mother is crouched down, in my personal space (let’s not go into visuals other than she was at an inappropriate height) and starts pointing to my Crocs, in a manner very much like what happens in this video, except without the incessant laughter.
She starts talking to the boy and says “Oh my God. He has the same shoes like you. Look at this man. He has your shoes.”
(Maybe she didn’t say “Oh my God” but it’s just funnier if she did.)
The little kid was wearing Crocs, as was his slightly older sister. If I had to guess, maybe the kid felt funny wearing the Crocs. I mean, physically, they are made out of a strange polymer that feels very different than a foot in a sock in a sneaker. Maybe it was a mental aversion; perhaps the kid knows about this facebook page. I don’t know.
I just didn’t appreciate the public use of my appearance in the woman’s life lesson to her son. It’s not like I was embarrassed that she was pointing out to all of Latham that I was wearing Crocs; I was just mortified by the fact that someone who was within
the distance to perform… my personal space would start pointing at me in such a ridiculous manner.