A(nother) Sticky Situation

/ Diane Henders

Unlike my sticky situation a few years ago, my latest debacle involved fashion, not glue.  And I’m here to tell you that when the words ‘sticky’ and ‘fashion’ get used in the same sentence the result is, um… undesirable.

As you may recall, I hate dressing up.  I haven’t bought new clothes in nearly ten years and I don’t have a clue what’s stylish now; but I’m pretty sure the wide-legged pants and bell-bottoms in my closet are passé.  (Or maybe not; what do I know?)

Anyway, I had a few panicky moments when I consulted my closet an hour before I was due to present my talk last week; but I did manage to get dressed.  From deep in the archives of my plastic shoe boxes I dug out my two pairs of comfortable dress shoes, and I was halfway out the door when I realized there was something sticky on one of the soles.

I rushed back, stuffed my feet into the other pair, and hurried off to the Civic Centre… only to discover that we were locked out.

When we finally got inside with only fifteen minutes to spare before the presentation, I rushed around setting up my projector and laptop.  Then I retired to the bathroom, hoping to dry the sweat that was rolling off me in the stuffy atmosphere.

That’s when I realized that, in my trauma over dress clothes, I’d forgotten to re-apply my deodorant. And I’d worn a sleeveless top. Every time I raised my arms, the pit-stink nearly knocked me over.

Okay; fine. The front rows were at least six feet away. The air conditioning was kicking in. I could carry this off.

So I dove into my presentation, getting totally immersed as I always do… until I realized that my damn shoe was sticking to the floor and un-sticking itself with an audible snap each time I moved.

For shit’s sake, what had I stepped in this time?!?

I ignored it as best I could and finished the talk; and everybody eventually trickled out.

That’s when I discovered that I hadn’t stepped in anything.  During their long contact with the plastic shoeboxes, the synthetic parts of the shoes had undergone some kind of chemical reaction.  The leather upper was fine, but the sole had turned into a gooey mess.

There were sticky black marks on the floor where I had stood; and a big piece of one sole had torn loose to flop around like a clown shoe with every step.

As I skulked out of the Civic Centre, Hubby helpfully remarked, “You left a piece of your shoe back there.”

I’m proud to report that there was only a smidgen of vulgarity in my response as I squelched my sticky way across the parking lot.

So the vindictive fashion gods have won another round. I’m afraid to even speculate what they’ll do for an encore; but if I’m lucky it’ll be another ten years down the road.

Maybe I’ll wait until then to buy new dress clothes…

Book 15 is under way!  I had a great plotting week — the subplot is mostly done and I’m working on the details of the main story.  Hope to start putting words on the page this week!

48 thoughts on “A(nother) Sticky Situation”

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  3. You make me laugh every week, Diane. And that’s not an easy feet. It’s amazing how you can turn these daily “normal” events into fun and funny prose. Lots of it is so recognizable as well.

    Like you I never buy clothes (and don’t really care about them, as long as I’m appropriately covered and comfortable), let alone dress up or wear make-up. And your lack-of-deodorant subplot reminded me of when I was standing on the metro in Montreal recently, refusing to hold on to one of those top loops… Not only was I smelly from a couple of hours of roaming around town in hot weather, but, I hadn’t shaved my armpits (or anything else) in a while! So, I held on to hubby’s backpack instead.

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    • LOL! I feel your pain. That’s the other byproduct of not having to leave the house to go to a ‘real’ job. Most of the time I’m presentable, but it’s sometimes a scramble when I realize that I have to participate in something that requires a level of personal grooming beyond brushing my hair. (Head hair. Just sayin’.) 😉

      And I’m glad you get regular laughs here — that makes my day!

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  5. Reading this post led to a minor heart attack for my poor wife as we were both working on our computers…house was quiet and peaceful when out of the blue I burst out with a load belly laugh reading your shoe escapade…..goes back to being a visual thinker. The sudden burst of laughter scared the …. out of my wife…poor thing!!

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    • Dang it, they must have gotten cooked / frozen / humidified while they were in storage during our move. If only I’d known, I’d have brought them with me instead of packing them; and they could have lasted another 10 years or more! (I really hate buying shoes. Grrr.)

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  10. I’ve never had shoes stick to anything in my closet. Hm. Yeah, I think I’m actually proud of that. 🙂

    I have, however, had them stick to the streets around here more than once, but that’s just because its summer. Have I mentioned that it’s SUMMER here where I live? I know, I know; it’s summer everywhere in the northern hemisphere. But here, it’s SUMMER. And no, I’m not the only one who spells it with all caps in July and August. The first of September usually sees summer spelled in lower case. Just sayin’…

    Saw a cartoon the other day that had Foghorn Leghorn explaining things this way: It’s so hot, the chickens are picking up worms with potholders!

    Then again, most chickens don’t wear sneakers. Around here, it might be because of the weather. But don’t quote me on that.

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    • LOL! Good old Foghorn Leghorn! I’m so glad we don’t get SUMMER like yours! Despite dire warnings of ‘hotter and drier than last summer’, so far we’ve been having a really nice one — temperatures hovering around 25C – 27C (77F – 80F); and it’s actually rained nearly an inch (in quarters and eighths) since the beginning of May. So far, so good… but August is on its way.

      And heck yeah, you should be proud that you’ve never had shoes stick to anything in your closet! If only I had known that this would happen, I’d have been reveling in my non-stick status to date, too. Live and learn…

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  11. Lucky me or maybe not. I just zip up a pair of jeans, throw on a t shirt, sweat shirt if it is cold, flip flops, sneakers or whatever is sitting there. If I am out of style that is too bad. That is me. Course I don’t get up in front of people and talk. Couldn’t do book reports in school. So my main comment would be if people don’t like it they can look the other way. Which suits me just fine. Your stuff makes my day. My Wednesday and then I go back and read them again when I need a lift. So keep on keeping on.

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    • Thanks, Barbara! It really means a lot to me to know my blog posts give you a smile!

      And I agree with you: If people don’t like the way I look, they don’t have to look at me. Except when I’m doing a presentation — then it seems polite to wear something that doesn’t make them wince for a solid hour and a half. 😉

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  12. I see that your wardrobe approach is similar to mine. Things are fresh when they’re brand new–tees, shorts, sweats, even the Reeboks. Then they turn into everyday wear. After that, they’re for more active tasks like cooking, cleaning, etc.. And the final step is when they are relegated to car repairs (which end up grimy or greasy) or for the shoes…lawn duty, as they always turn permanently green and brown. I usually use them for the lawn until the soles wear out and the inner air bladders start flopping around behind me, like clown shoes. Then I know it’s time to let them go. In maybe a year or so. It’s after they’ve fallen a few times from whatever shelf or box I’ve placed them on that I get frustrated and send them on their way.

    I think our washing machine hates my shirts, since it has torn up a few of them, especially at the armpits. Those are the ones that get car repair duty. On the plus side–they are well ventilated.

    I don’t play “dress up” very well. Any sport coat I own is a decade or two too small, and one of them apparently got nibbled on by a moth somehow. I managed to wear a noose–erm, tie–several years ago for a job interview. The last pair of dress shoes cut into the backs of my ankles the first time I wore them at length, and I haven’t worn them since.

    My idea of dressing up lately are scrubs–nice ones that are very dark and don’t really look like scrubs until you notice the pockets. Paired with a polo, one of my nicer non-ventilated t-shirts or one of my tropical button-down shirts, they look good enough. Khakis and sweaters if it’s colder out. (No turtlenecks–I’m not the obtuse artsy type!)

    I’m that weird one that doesn’t like jeans, and I grew up during the designer jeans phase in the early 80s. I’ve reluctantly owned a few, but I have to stick to “old man” jeans now that have a relaxed fit and are a bit stretchy. NO elastic waistbands though–I’m not THAT old! (And no Velcro shoes either. Not yet, anyway.)

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    • LOL! I used to tease Hubby about his velcro runners – he started wearing them in his late 40s. I notice that his last few pairs have had laces, though — sheer chance, I’m sure. All he cares about is whether they’re fast and easy to slip on and off. It’s a good thing we’re both at the same level of fashion-cluelessness. 🙂

      My runners follow the same life path as yours: Buy new and wear indoors and on the treadmill; then outdoors for general walking; then in the garden and garage only. (The only exception is a good pair of running shoes for running outdoors… not that I’ve done any of that lately. Maybe when it gets cooler in the fall.) And when the garden shoes finally get so many holes in them that I have to empty out a pint of dirt after each trip to the garden, it’s finally time to bid them adieu. But they’re comfy then…

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  13. I think you’re looking at this the wrong way. All those decades old clothes …they still fit. YOU WIN!! And those styles you mentioned are back in vogue so another win for you. Leaving pieces of your shoes behind is unfortunate, but all in all I’d say you’re on the plus side of things for the evening! Yah you!
    I hope your presentation went well and the turnout was good. I think I may have missed last weeks email. Must go back and check. May your muse be by your side. Happy writing!

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    • Thanks, Michelle! I like the way you think — I’m still one point ahead for the week!

      The presentation went very well, thanks. We had about 25% more people than I’d expected (and enough chairs to go around), so that was a win! And with any luck, most of them were far enough away that they didn’t notice my B.O. and disintegrating shoes. 😉

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  14. Fashion/smachion.
    That train left without me a long time ago.
    If I go out these days I am satisfied with my appearance if zips and buttons still do their thing without overt stress and if I haven’t slagged toothpaste down my chest.
    And some days I fail to rise above even these low bars…

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    • It’s a much easier way to live. I keep a small flock of T-shirts that gradually progress from ‘new’ to ‘worn-in’ to ‘only in the garden or garage’. I usually manage not to go out in public wearing the latter category; but if I accidentally do, I figure that as long as there’s nothing exposed that could get me arrested, I’m doing okay. Never been arrested yet! (Speaking of setting the bar low…) 🙂

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  15. I have had the same thing happen with two pairs of old shoes. They didn’t stick to the floor but they did fall apart while I was walking. I was wearing one pair when I had a meeting with a guy who kept giving odd looks at my shoes. I thought at the time that perhaps he had a weird thing for shoes. It wasn’t until later when the shoes fell apart that I realized he must have observed something wrong with my shoes but was too polite to say anything. Thankfully the soles of the second pair fell apart before I left the house. Now I always rigorously check any old footwear before I wear it.

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  16. Oh I hate that. Ive had a number of concert tees ruined because of the logos sticking together. Have also had opened my tackle box after a few years to find many plastic worms had melted to each other and even the box itself!

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  17. Oh dear! LOL Lately I’ve been going through clothes and shoes from a few *cough*decades*cough ago and finding shoes that mysteriously crack apart when I try them on and elastic waistbands that are mysteriously not stretchy anymore . . . it makes it easy to get rid of them, at least . . .

    And may I just say that I truly feel less alone in my clothing faux pas whenever you bravely share your shenanigans? For which I thank you 🙂

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    • You’re most welcome! I gave up on maintaining any semblance of sartorial appropriateness quite a while ago; and my life has been a lot less stressful (and less expensive) since. The least I can do is offer others a chance to relax in the knowledge that they aren’t as bad as I am!

      Maybe I should make a point of buying one new pair of pants per year. Then at least I’d be somewhere in the fashion ballpark. I wore plain black yoga pants and a nice top to this presentation because I just didn’t have anything else. Thank God for black yoga pants!

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  18. Hold onto those wide legged and bell bottom pants. Pull out your “mom waisted” pants too. My college aged daughter is wearing all of that. See, hold onto it long enough and you can sell it at a garage sale for a premium!! (I’d have to anyway. They wouldn’t fit my mom waist anymore). Sorry about the shoes though. I don’t think there’s a market yet for melty shoes. But, stranger things…

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    • You’re right! The instant I get rid of those melty shoes they’ll hurtle to the peak of fashionista stardom. But I think it’s a chance I’m willing to take.

      I’ve seen kids wearing those mom-waisted pants lately, too. Dang, and I just got rid of my last pair a couple of years ago! Missed opportunities… 😉

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  20. Awww Diane only you. I giggled so much reading this you really made my day. I haven’t had much to smile about recently I’ve been in too much pain. But hopefully I will get to the bottom of it soon

    I love the mental image of you stick g to the floor as you walked I’m sorry for laughing but I needed it

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    • You’re right: Only in my world! And I’m glad you laughed! Don’t be sorry — it makes me happy when people laugh with me. (And even if they’re laughing at me, I usually end up laughing with them, anyway.) 🙂

      I’m so sorry to hear you’re suffering — I hope you feel better soon.

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