2006/06/05
Boatfoot
Boatfoot is like trenchfoot. Your feet start to rot from being wet all the time. It's not recognised medical terminology, but it should be.
I've been wearing these boots to work for five years. The first four years were fine, but they've finally given out. If you grab the toe and heel and push, you can see the steel sole inside. It's very shiny steel, so it's pretty. Still, every morning, within 30 seconds, my feet are soaked.
I came home last night after work and Jaq said "Guess what? It's Sean Appreciation Day."
I said, "Huh? What's that?" Actually, I said "uhwazza?" because I tend to mumble when I'm tired, but Jaq understood me.
"Sean Appreciation Day. Look in the bags."
Sitting on the table were two shopping bags. Inside one were six new pairs of wooly socks and six new pairs of underwear. Inside the other were new boots.
Jaq's sure swell. I wore my new boots to work today and all the other wharfies* oohed and aahed at my spiffy (and dry) feet. I told them the Sean Appreciation Day story and they were all jealous. "My wife never does stuff like that!" was a common comment. I said, "You blow your paycheque on beer instead of on your family and go home drunk every freaking night. Then you come to work and bitch about your 'naggy old lady.' And you wonder why your wife doesn't appreciate or do nice things for you?" Okay, I didn't say that. But I thought it.
No more boatfoot. Yay!
I'm pooped, so that's all I'm going to write. Good night.
* Jaq has an Aussie friend who says shipyard guys are called "wharfies" down there. I like the word. I'll do my best to spread it at work.
I've been wearing these boots to work for five years. The first four years were fine, but they've finally given out. If you grab the toe and heel and push, you can see the steel sole inside. It's very shiny steel, so it's pretty. Still, every morning, within 30 seconds, my feet are soaked.
I came home last night after work and Jaq said "Guess what? It's Sean Appreciation Day."
I said, "Huh? What's that?" Actually, I said "uhwazza?" because I tend to mumble when I'm tired, but Jaq understood me.
"Sean Appreciation Day. Look in the bags."
Sitting on the table were two shopping bags. Inside one were six new pairs of wooly socks and six new pairs of underwear. Inside the other were new boots.
Jaq's sure swell. I wore my new boots to work today and all the other wharfies* oohed and aahed at my spiffy (and dry) feet. I told them the Sean Appreciation Day story and they were all jealous. "My wife never does stuff like that!" was a common comment. I said, "You blow your paycheque on beer instead of on your family and go home drunk every freaking night. Then you come to work and bitch about your 'naggy old lady.' And you wonder why your wife doesn't appreciate or do nice things for you?" Okay, I didn't say that. But I thought it.
No more boatfoot. Yay!
I'm pooped, so that's all I'm going to write. Good night.
* Jaq has an Aussie friend who says shipyard guys are called "wharfies" down there. I like the word. I'll do my best to spread it at work.
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