Breaking In My Boots

It suddenly occurred to me how ridiculous I must have looked roaming around the mall in short shorts and rugged hiking boots amid ladies clad in dainty sandals and flip-flops. How shameful my shameless outfit was that I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at myself. Wearing those tough hikers, I could have trod on the pink pedicured toes of the woman who gave me that I-wouldn’t-be-caught-dead-dressed-like-you head-to-toe look, but I didn’t. It felt so absurdly good walking around and breaking in those new shoes that nothing, not even that woman, could have ruined it. And, while I was on my way home, when it started to pour and I had to maneuver across muddy puddles and dirty rainwater streaming down the street in those waterproof boots, I guess I didn’t look ridiculous anymore.