During my time in Guatemala, I have fallen victim to a number of setbacks. My luggage was run over by an airplane and subsequently destroyed, my checking account was reduced to $1.49 by an ATM scam, and I’ve spent numerous hours recovering from imprudent street food decisions. I’ve managed to recover from these inconveniences gracefully, but none so far can compare to the Universe’s most recent affront. Last night my flip flops were eaten and rendered unwearable by the neighbors poorly disciplined and unruly pair of dachshund puppies.
This may seem petty and inconsequential when viewed in light of the crippling poverty that envelopes this country, and the cheerfulness with which its inhabitants lead their lives. Maybe it is petty and inconsequential, but I hate shoes. Even more than I hate shoes, I hate socks. In a way, it started generations ago; I have had the good fortune to inherit my parents’ good breeding. But just as purebred showdogs are sometimes prone to hip dysplasia, I have very sweaty feet. In this tropical climate in which I live the regular donning of shoes and socks is simply unacceptable. I have visited various shops as well as the open air market in search of a suitable replacement, but my feet are four sizes larger than those of the largest Guatemalan. Cursed again by my champion pedigree.
This injustice will not rest until the culprit is broken upon the wheel or otherwise castigated. The trick will be to identify which rodent was responsible. I have a great deal of respect for the right to due process, and have confirmed that it was one of the two neighbor dogs by two concrete pieces of evidence: They are the only dogs who ever have access to my apartment, and they left their criminal signature: they also ate my dirty underwear. They’ve been sneaking into my apartment to eat my underwear for months now, and their indulgence this time will be there downfall.
I guess this is another lesson in the impermanence of material things.
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A New Voice
May be found here.
Sorry Horan, but I'm with the dogs. I hate that you wear flip flops in the winter.
It's summer here.
Yo Horan,
Send me your flip-flop size I will find you a pair at the Trail Head (they are all on sale) and mail them to you.
Jedzilla (Wesley is my son…)
Haha!
I wish you the best of luck down there, but I'm with Radley. I hate your flip flop fetish. Rock a pair of nikes son. (or anything closed toed)
Damn racist mutt