Not in a “I have a foot fetish and they get me hot” way more in a “ewww get those nasty things away from me” way. It’s not a hate. Hate is a strong word. I just really don’t like naked feet touching my stuff. Worse than naked feet touching my stuff is other people’s naked feet touching my stuff.
In Turkey it is customary that you remove your shoes before entering someone’s home. I get it, I really do. There is a lot of dust and germs outside and you want to keep your pristine home as pristine as possible. When you visit someone’s home you are welcomed with a hearty hoş geldiniz and your host will place a pair of slippers at your feet. This. Makes. Me. Shudder! I look at those slippers at my naked feet and I wonder what awaits me. I mean how many other feet have been in these slippers? How many other dirty, sweaty, smelly tootsies have been subjected to sharing their dirty, sweaty, smelly selves with my feet. It’s a foot gang-bang.
Hygienically I am pretty sure you should not share shoes, when I was a kid my mum drilled it into me a hundred times! “You never know where their foot has been!” was her catchcry. It’s true though, you do never know where their foot has been.
We have all seen those ads on television, you know the ones with the festy toe and then miraculously the toe (with the help of some wonderous cream) becomes beautiful and no longer something that previously could have been found on Golan’s foot! They have these ads on all the time here in Turkey, even the advertisers know that you shouldn’t share your slippers.
Daughter had some friends over the other day and in order to escape I took My Hurley Dog for a walk. Upon my return I went to put my slippers on. MY slippers. My slippers do not live in the slipper box. My slippers are segregated from all other slippers so that they are not violated by unknown feet. My slippers are not to be passed around like a . . . well you get my drift. My slippers are wholesome and untarnished and for my dirty, sweaty, smelly feet alone. But upon my return from walking with My Hurley Dog my slippers were not in their usual segregated spot. I stealthy scanned the feet of the tweens in my living room. Aarrghhhh!
Someone is wearing my virgin slippers. I tried to bring it to Daughter’s attention that one of her friends were wearing my slippers but she was oblivious to my plight or perhaps she was ignoring me, well aware of her friend’s infraction. I looked in my slipper basket at all the other pairs that were available. Yes we have an abundance of slippers available. Do I put on a pair? No. I can’t do it! Ewww.
I am aware that I am sounding slightly unhinged at this point and I know I cannot say anything to the little 12 year old girl sitting on the floor, eating popcorn and singing along to some Turkish pop song with Daughter and her friends. I did watch her swanning around in my slippers for a long time though. I probably frightened her a little with my glare. I am obviously going to have to keep an eye on this one. I wonder if I could encourage Daughter to un-friend her. She is obviously devious, I mean after all who goes searching for slippers where there is a box of slippers right in front of her?
Yes she definitely needs to be unfriended. Pronto!