My writing course assignment this week is about dialogues. We were supposed to find a subject and write a conversation with it. I thought about many different items to converse with, but a pair of Flip Flops that my friend Amy Dean gave me a few years ago kept haunting me... or taunting me, as the case may be. Other students have written dialogues with their brains, pets, bed sheets, candles, etc. But I'm digging the shoes... and I'm really going to wear them tomorrow.
Dialogue with my Flip Flops
Me: Hey! There you are! I almost forgot about you.
FF: Yes, here I am. Waiting in the closet. Waiting, waiting, waiting. I can’t believe you haven’t seen me before now. I never thought I would be overlooked. I was a gift… and a right sparkly one as well.
Me: Yes. I remember when Amy gave you to me. I was so excited!
FF: I know… it was your birthday.
Me: I put you on right then and there and showed you off to everyone around.
FF: My, how the mighty have fallen. I’m just a cast off now, I suppose. Hanging out down here with the Tevas and the Doc Martens. But don’t worry about me. I’m just a pair of beaded flip flops. It’s not like you’ve hurt my feelings or anything.
Me: I’m sorry. I had no idea that shoes had feelings.
FF: Of course we do… don’t be silly. It’s a dog-eat-dog world here in the bottom of your closet. There is always pushing and shoving around. Haven’t you noticed that one day everything is tidy and the next is a mess?
Me: Well yes. I guess I determined that was my fault.
FF: Nope. It’s all about power here in the underworld. Kickin’ your way up the ladder so that you aren’t forgotten.
Me: Huh. I guess you learn something new everyday.
FF: If only that were true. I’ve been sitting around the bottom of your closet for over a year now. I’m feeling a little neglected. Like… what is the phrase? A red-headed step-child.
Me: That’s impossible. You could never be neglected. You shine far too bright.
FF: I thought so too, but then I’ve been forgotten for almost an entire season. How you could have picked those cheap discount store flips to take to Florida instead of me is incomprehensible.
Me: Um, maybe I didn’t want to get all that grit on you. You are a special pair of flips.
FF: Obviously not special enough to make it to Florida. To borrow a phrase from The Princess Bride, inconceivable.
Me: Wow. That’s a pretty big word for a pair of shoes. How did you come to be so well versed?
FF: I’m a movie buff. Plus, I read what I can. I enjoyed our treks to the library, but I don’t get out that often anymore, as you well know…
Me: Do I need to continue to apologize? I already have once.
FF: It didn’t feel heart felt though. You lack sincerity.
Me: Okay. I promise that I am really, really sorry. I’m here now, picking you out again. I’m even truly excited about finding you. Does that make you feel better?
FF: Emotionally yes. Physically no.
Me: Why not? Are you going to start whining now because I’m going to wear you outside?
FF: Its not that I’m ungrateful, but…
Me: But what?
FF: Well, you have put on some weight since last summer.
Me: (Gasp!) How did you know?
FF: The Nikes warned me.
Me: Ah. Well. They would know.
FF: Can I let you in on a little secret?
FF: They are grateful that you are wearing them again… but they’d like it if you would utilize them for their purpose. You know, its one thing to put on a pair of Nikes to go to the mall, it’s another thing all together to actually get up and hit the Y every once in a while. They have been yearning for a treadmill excursion.
FF: Oh yes. AND the step aerobics class. If you asked them, they would really want you to go back there.
Me: You’re kidding right? I thought I was going to die after just 15 minutes in that class. You should have been there. I was doing my best not to throw up or pass out.
FF: I don’t really fit in at the Y. No arch support. But you may be hitting the proverbial nail on the head with the Nikes. I mean, that’s the word on the street.
Me: Word on the street? It sounds like you’re in a bad B movie. The next thing you’ll tell me is that the Nikes are the Godfather of my shoe closet.
FF: Well… if the shoe fits…
FF: Hehehehe. Seriously, you know what they say… “Leave the gun, take the canoli”.
Me: What the heck is that supposed to mean?
FF: It means that if anyone crosses the Nikes, they sleep with the fishes.