Occasionally, I just take a little time to gripe.
A college roommate always said I was most amusing when I was complaining about something. Then again, he also claimed that have been abducted by space aliens resembling Michael Jackson, but that’s another story.
Socks are bewildering.
It’s true that something happens in the laundry that makes socks disappear. And it is never both socks of a pair, so that you eventually end up with a drawer full of single, mismatched socks. I’ve taken to buying only one style and color of sock to avoid this problem, but the dryer is somehow able to put someone else’s socks in my laundry just to confuse me.
Scientists speculate that black holes suck matter from one part of the universe and spit it back out somewhere else, perhaps in another, parallel universe.
I can tell you, without hesitation or speculation, that there is a black hole connecting my drier and the parallel world of the Lost & Found bin at Socks ‘R’ Us.
But that’s not my complaint today. What upsets me at the moment is that I never know when I purchase socks if they have a good adhesion factor, that is, whether by the time I finish lacing up both shoes they will have fallen down around my ankles.
Nothing is more aggravating than a pair of socks that won’t stay up, unless it’s biting into a stale Reese’s Cup.
And that’s not to mention how silly it must seem when I cross my legs and everyone around me can see lily white ankles between crumpled socks and the cuff of my dress pants.
To remedy buyer’s remorse for socks, stores should allow “test wears,” much like dealerships allow automobile test drives. I don’t know precisely how they would do this, because there would be the temptation for customers to literally walk off with, and in, the merchandise.
Perhaps they could provide a “sock escort” while you tried them out. Or maybe, like pets, an electronic fence could zap you with electrical current if you walked too close to the exit.
Sock packaging would need to be changed. Currently, dress socks come coupled with a metal band, stuck together with that plastic thing that hurts your teeth when you bite it, with labels affixed all over, and with tissue paper inside. That must change.
Personally, I would like to know how they manage to insert tissue paper in the sock without crumpling it, and what possible purpose it serves, anyway.
I suppose that someone might suggest sock suspenders. But, I’d rather get a couple of Gold Toes tattooed on my legs.
My next complaint, unrelated to low-adhesion socks, is that bathrooms containing hand lotion should not have doors with knobs.
I made the mistake of washing my hands and applying lotion before I had turned the door knob to get out, and was thus trapped in the bathroom for several hours a I waited for absorption to return some measure of grip to my hands.
Hand lotion should be placed outside the bathroom door. Of course, then someone would inevitably complain that he wet his pants because his hands were too slick to turn the knob.
But, that’s a problem to gripe about in someone else’s column.