You Don't Have Big Feet

Among the many things that women do, one of the more mystifying is the seemingly common habit of thinking you have big feet, and, correspondingly, feeling bad about it.

Although in some ways, I can commiserate. I've had big feet my whole misspent life, and I've felt bad about the way that acquiring footwear has often been a Sisyphean task.

I've felt bad about how people think its okay to make fun of them ad nauseum. Like I never heard the "rent them as boats" line before, you moronic sh*tsack...

I've felt bad about threatening to put one of those feet so far up somewhere that the person would have to open their mouth for me to tie my shoe.

I've felt bad at the fact that of all the saunas I've visited in several different countries, only one has shower shoes big enough to fit me. Unfortunately, it's a place where the masseuses are all too eager to demonstrate their 'air traffic control' skills and do their aeronautical best to make dead stick landings a thing of the past. Which is a pretty persuasive argument when there's only a towel between them and your undercarriage.

But I digress...

To women, let me say this: I have big feet.

You don't have big feet.

I swear on my Mother's parole hearing you don't.

Your feet are perfectly fine just as they are. Just like the restof you:  Irresistible, wonderful, charming, and absolutely acceptable just as you are.

Even first thing in the morning with no makeup and un-brushed teeth. It's not a problem. We promise.

Because we see ourselves in the mirror first thing in the morning, and the fact that you are not running away screaming in horror and revulsion means more to us than you'll ever know.

Please believe me; I'm  a Doctor of Communications and I know about these things.

Men are more than happy with you and your feet 99% of the time.

But let's look at an instance of the 1%.

A woman' self-deprecation in front of men is too often (I think) accompanied by a woman perjuring herself in front of women.

Specifically, women who sell shoes. These women are told all manner of lies about a word that rhymes with lies.

It isn't only men who lie about size after all...On average, a woman's feet are pretty nice to look at.

Because they're attached to women.

And just because.

Well, sometimes I think a French pedicure is a bit too far to go, but you get points for thoroughness and attention to detail.However...

Women's feet do notlook nice stuffed into shoes that are too small. If you think your feet are big, buying shoes that are too motherf@#$ing small does not help matters.

In fact, you know what it makes you look like?

Like you have big-@ss feet. That are painful. And notpretty:These are Nicole Richie's feet. Maybe they' look uncomfortable because they're more used to being up in the air...Women's feet do not look nice when your toes are hanging over the front edge of the shoe, either.

Because of this phenomenon, little children have mistaken women for vultures and run screaming through stores. I've seen it.

Between being too small for her and the apparent 'style' at work, these shoes make it look like this woman's feet are being humped by gilded scarabs.Orthodontic overbites are kind of cute. Podiatric overhangs are not.It fascinates and bothers me to watch women literally injure themselves just for 'fashion.' If these shoes are not as excruciating to wear as they are to look at, why is she shifting her weight back and forth? 

Women wear shoes that do things to your feet that don't even get done to Guantanamo detainees.

Women cause themselvesall kinds of problems, and for what???

"I want to look nice!" "They look sexy!"

Guess what? You don't look nice, much less sexy, at 11:30 sitting on the couch with your feet in a bucket of ice water and that grumpy expression on your face.

Sure, you smiled at the people that we had dinner with, but they don't have to live with you. We (men) do.I thought I was the most important man in your life. Turns out its Manolo Blahnik. Who's probablygay , for Christ's sake... Those shoes may look 'sexy,' but any man with half a brain knows that they're so aggravating to wear that there's no waythe woman wearing them could fulfill that deception: "You want to what? Oh hellno, my feet are killing me."

You know what reallysexy shoes are? Any old kind of shoe worn by a woman who's been taken somewhere she wants to go. Her funky-@ss gym shoes are sexy when you've made her wear them to go exploring tidal pools on the beach in Fiji, where you've brought her for a surprise getaway.

Take your vitamins, homeboy, the TV in the hotel will remain off tonight.

Please let's remember here; my underlying theme/motivation, which is very likely the same for all (straight) men, is that we don't like watching you make yourself miserable or hurting yourself.

And not just because we're the ones who have to deal with it after everyone else has f@#$ed off home.

It's not cute and it's not pretty.

You know what's pretty?

A woman smiling.

Because her shoes are not violating the Geneva Convention and torturing her.Unfortunately, it seems that 99% of women are incapable of buying comfortable shoes no matter how nice they look .

And that 1% is probably wearing a flannel shirt, if you catch my drift.

But hey, who the hell are weto tell women how to dress? We're not other women, or the people at the event, or the media, or your in-laws, or your co-workers, or your colleagues, or your classmates at the reunion.We're not designers, or papparazzi, or bosses, or that b*tch who slept with the whole offensive line in junior year and probably had a tummy tuck and...We're just the guys who will carry you in the house after those things are over (we drove home, too), fetch the ice water, take your shoes off, (and clean the blood off so that you can wear them again next week to that other party), carry you upstairs, dote on you like a nurse, love you unconditionally, and could really f@#$ing care less about how big or small your feet are. We just want them to stop making you miserable.

We're the ones who have to live with the other22 hours of your Stiletto Heel Saturday, the non-party hours. And we don't like seeing you hurt.

We're the ones who love you so much that we don't even try to slip you a couple extra drinks and waiting until we're home to say "Hey, baby, lose the dress... but keep the shoes."

At least partially because we know it wouldn't happen, but mostly  'cause we love you like that.

We love you so much that we don't even get mad when you forget to break us off a Gratitude F@#$ for being the Midnight Podiatrist.

We're just the men who loveyou.

But in shoe terms, apparently that doesn't mean sh*t.

We don't matter.

Until it's time to go home.

So at least please spare us the histrionic self-flagellation about how you can never find decent shoes because your feet are too big, a statement inevitably followed by a pregnant pause in which we, the guy, are supposed to say "Oh no, honey, you don't have big feet..." for the umpteenth damn time.

You know who's got big feet? Any woman with a man's US14. I wear a US13/UK12/HK47.5.

I have big feet.  You don't.

So would you pleaseshut the f#$% up and get dressed?

Oh, and before you even think of it, my assis bigger than yours too, so just hurry up and choose your purse. We're going to be late.

Again.

But so what? We loveyou. Just the way you are. We promise.I tell you what, if I see Manolo Blahnik at the party I'll kick his monkey ass. With my big f@#$ing feet.