While having dinner tonight at a friends, (BTW, GP makes hella pasta!) I heard the story about size 12 Patagonia shoes that were left on their breezeway over the weekend. If you own these shoes, please email me so they can be returned (they live in the McKennan Park neighborhood). There is more to the story, but we won’t get into that right now.
Donate them. The city poor will use them to make soup. Some nutritious value and tames a growling stomach. There’s a recipe on the web but not from the $500k public funds Huether cookbook.
Just for the record the cookbook story was a parody. People can’t talk to each other telepathetically and Sandy Chuether is a made up character.
Pairs of shoes being abandoned hither and yon is a common event in some parts of the country. Friend of mine in Flagstaff, AZ has pictures of hundreds of them from those parts over the last few years.
BTW – the shoes are found – thier owner is “missing”.
The ‘owner’ did some other interesting things after realizing he was at the ‘wrong house’. Funny shit.
This reminds me of the time the Mrs and I had drinks at establishment and I met a new friend in the parking lot.
I had to use the restroom before we left. The wife went to the car as she was the driver. I walked out into the lot opened the car door, farted, then sat in the passengers seat while belching out “I ate too fucking much food”. The young lady in the driver seat, screamed opened the door and ran (in tears) into the establishment.
I sat in a car identical to ours but not ours.
After some apologies from me and pleading from my wife, the young lady decided not to call the police.
I was mortified.
LJL – we have all been there. And while I have done crazy shit while drinking, one time I was completely sober and having lunch at Chammps, I went to the bathrooms, and without paying attention walked into the Ladies, not sure why, luckily there was no women in there, but once I looked around and noticed there was no urinals, I figured it out, so I try to sneak out, and I am successful, but someone sees me. I sit down at my table, and a lady walks up to me and says, “why don’t you have a couple more beers.” My roomate says, “What’s that all about?” I said, “She must have me mistaken for someone else.” I guess I am a jackass even when I am sober.