Charlie Hatton About This
About Me
Email Me

Bookmark
 FeedBurnerEmailTwitterFacebookAmazon
Charlie Hatton
Brookline, MA



All Quotes
HomeAboutArchiveBestShopEmail

  |  

Howdy, friendly reading person!
I'm on a bit of a hiatus right now, but only to work on other projects -- one incredibly exciting example being the newly-released kids' science book series Things That Make You Go Yuck!
If you're a science and/or silliness fan, give it a gander! See you soon!

Sock It to Me

I have a dilemma. I need socks. Athletic socks, to be precise.

For most people, this wouldn’t be an issue. Your average able-bodied sock-requiring person would simply, well, buy socks. For me, it’s a dilemma. A conundrum. My socks are putting me in a pickle.

(And remember, kids — your socks can put you in a pickle, but you can’t put your pickle in a sock.

Or sock your friends’ pickles. Or pick your friends’ noses with your pickle. Or something infinitely less disturbing to think about. I was never so good with the details.)

“I wouldn’t say I’m embroiled in a full-on toe hole epidemic yet, but I’m definitely on orange alert over here.”

Anyway, here’s the situation: I’m rapidly running out of socks. Every day, another sock succumbs to some fatal affliction. Toe holes are a problem, certainly. I wouldn’t say I’m embroiled in a full-on toe hole epidemic yet, but I’m definitely on orange alert over here. Meanwhile, overstretched elastic has claimed its share of victims. When you’re wearing supposedly calf-length socks and find them sagging around your ankles like a couple of used condoms, it’s time for the trash bin.

And then, of course, there are the socks that just disappear. It’s a magic trick performed in households around the world on a weekly basis. An ordinary, everyday pair of socks is placed into the washing machine. Notice the solid construction — no trap doors in the back, and no detergent up my sleeve. Now we wash, we dry, and presto klepto — one of the socks has vanished into thin air! It’s magic, thank you! And now my lovely assistant will regale you with her mesmerizing dryer sheet dance. Magic!

At any rate, I’m running dangerously low on foot sleeves these days. Half the surviving socks don’t have a match, a few are getting pretty ragged, and there’s a suspicious patch of ‘toe wear’ showing on most of the rest. The situation’s getting desperate; if I lose many more, I may have to resort to wearing my wife’s panty hose.

(And I do not have the anatomical profile needed to get into those. There are only so many bits of me that I can ‘tuck’, after all.)

So it’s clearly sock-buying time, and that poses a dilemma. The way I see it, I have three options:

1. Go out and buy socks

Oh sure, it sounds easy.

But where would I go to buy socks? I’ll tell you where — the shopping mall. And I hate — absolutely stinking loathe — shopping at the mall. Especially this close to Christmastime, with the crowding and the shoving and the reindeer poop in the parking lots. And especially for something as boring and mundane as socks.

Honestly. The Victoria’s Secret at the local mall could hold a bra-‘n’-panties sale where you pull the merchandise off of live catalog models, and I’d still probably decide it’s more trouble than it’s worth. How the hell are tube socks supposed to lure me there, in the very height of the yuletide frenzy?

The answer? They can’t. Which brings us to:

2. Buy socks online

This, I could do. I buy all sorts of things online — music, books, Russian mail order brides (as gifts! As gifts!), even internet domain names. Like ‘wherethehellwasi.com‘. Or ‘victoriasstrippingsale.net‘.

(I said I probably wouldn’t go, if it existed. I never said the event shouldn’t be captured live on a series of high-resolution webcams.

It’s called ‘being prepared’, people. Catch up on your own time.)

So I’m sure I could find a reputable mens’ legwear vendor on the interweb. I could pick out a style, gauge my size and would have no problem placing an order for all the socks my tootsies could ever need.

Except for this problem, that is: Do I really want to be the sort of person who buys athletic socks online?

That seems an awful lot like one of those lines you can’t uncross later. Like the first ominous step on a slippery slope leading to an unemployed existence selling homemade T-shirts on eBay from my parents’ basement.

(“Dude, whatever happened to Charlie? He always seemed somewhat stable, and not completely incompetent.

He started buying his tube socks off the internet.

Oh dear god. He’s one of ‘them‘ now.“)

I just don’t see coming back from that. Ergo, I can’t go there. I just can’t. Which leaves me with:

3. Strip down and go sockless.

Normally, I’d be all over this option. It requires zero effort, I don’t have to buy anything, and I am completely without a shred of fashion sense, so I could do it with no remorse or embarrassment whatsoever. If being barefoot in my shoes turns out to be the most egregious clothing faux pas I commit from here on out, my wife will be positively giddy with relief. She’s just waiting for me to wear my underpants on the outside of my jeans, or to argue for swimming gear as formal wear.

(I know I’d be happier after a long wedding knowing I could hop right into the hotel pool. I’m just saying, is all.

Either tell our Catholic friends to hurry up those ceremonies, or let me have the swim trunks and water wings in the church. I’m willing to meet you halfway here.)

Clearly, fashion is not an issue for me. But there’s still something keeping me from ‘letting my piggies go’.

I’m in New England. In November. It’s freaking cold. If I stepped one sockless foot outside my house in this frigid nightmare, I wouldn’t feel my toes again until Easter. I’m fine with upsetting Mr. Blackwell and his ilk with my hairy bare hobbit feet, but six months of frostbite is a little further than I’m willing to go right now.

So really, I’m left with no options at all. Except the one I’ve been trying to avoid all along.

When my last stash of wearable socks gives out in a week or two, looks like it’s the missus’ panty hose for me. If ‘toe holes’ are the worst problem I encounter, I’ll be a happy — and sock-footed, and warm-toed — dude.

But there’s going to be a hell of a lot of tucking. And from an awful lot of angles, I’m afraid. I hope we have some duct tape handy. Lord knows I’m not running to the mall for that.

Permalink  |  1 Comment



One Response to “Sock It to Me”

  1. quirkyloon says:

    Wait, you forgot one more option.

    Ask Santa for some new socks. Oh wait, you’d have to go to the mall for that too.

    Hmm.

    Send your wife to ask Santa. Yep, that’s the ticket.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

HomeAboutArchiveBestShopEmail © 2003-15 Charlie Hatton All Rights Reserved
Highlights
Me on Film 'n' Stage:
  Drinkstorm Studios


Me on Science (silly):
  Secondhand SCIENCE


Me on Science (real):
  Meta Science News


Me on ZuG (RIP):
  Zolton's FB Pranks
  Zolton Does Amazon


Favorite Posts:
30 Facts: Alton Brown
A Commute Dreary
A Hallmark Moment
Blue's Clues Explained
Eight Your 5-Hole?
El Classo de Espanol
Good News for Goofballs
Grammar, Charlie-Style
Grammar, Revisitated
How I Feel About Hippos
How I Feel About Pinatas
How I Feel About Pirates
Life Is Like...
Life Is Also Like...
Smartass 101
Twelve Simple Rules
Unreal Reality Shows
V-Day for Dummies
Wheel of Misfortune
Zolton, Interview Demon

Me, Elsewhere

Features
Standup Comedy Clips

Selected Clips:
  09/10/05: Com. Studio
  04/30/05: Goodfellaz
  04/09/05: Com. Studio
  01/28/05: Com. Studio
  12/11/04: Emerald Isle
  09/06/04: Connection

Boston Comedy Clubs

 My 100 Things Posts

Selected Things:
  #6: My Stitches
  #7: My Name
  #11: My Spelling Bee
  #35: My Spring Break
  #36: My Skydives
  #53: My Memory
  #55: My Quote
  #78: My Pencil
  #91: My Family
  #100: My Poor Knee

More Features:

List of Lists
33 Faces of Me
Cliche-O-Matic
Punchline Fever
Simpsons Quotes
Quantum Terminology

Favorites
Banterist
...Bleeding Obvious
By Ken Levine
Defective Yeti
DeJENNerate
Divorced Dad of Two
Gallivanting Monkey
Junk Drawer
Life... Weirder
Little. Red. Boat.
Mighty Geek
Mitchieville
PCPPP
Scaryduck
Scott's Tip of the Day
Something Authorly
TGNP
Unlikely Explanations

Archives
Full Archive

Category Archives:

(Stupid) Computers
100Things
A Doofus Is Me
Articles 'n' Zines
Audience Participation
Awkward Conversations
Bits About Blogging
Bitter Old Man Rants
Blasts from My Past
Cars 'n' Drivers
Dog Drivel
Eek!Cards
Foodstuff Fluff
Fun with Words!
Googlicious!
Grooming Gaffes
Just Life
Loopy Lists
Making Fun of Jerks
Marketing Weenies
Married and a Moron
Miscellaneous Nonsense
Potty Talk / Yes, I'm a Pig
Sleep, and Lack Thereof
Standup
Tales from the Stage
Tasty Beverages
The Happy Homeowner
TV & Movies & Games, O My!
Uncategorized
Vacations 'n' Holidays
Weird for the Sake of Weird
Whither the Weather
Wicked Pissah Bahstan
Wide World o' Sports
Work, Work, Work
Zug

Heroes
Alas Smith and Jones
Berkeley Breathed
Bill Hicks
Dave Barry
Dexter's Laboratory
Douglas Adams
Evening at the Improv
Fawlty Towers
George Alec Effinger
Grover
Jake Johannsen
Married... With Children
Monty Python
Nick Bakay
Peter King
Ren and Stimpy
Rob Neyer
Sluggy Freelance
The Simpsons
The State

Plugs, Shameless
100 Best Humor Blogs | Healthy Moms Magazine

Alltop, confirmation that I kick ass

TopOfBlogs

HumorSource

Blogging Fusion Blog Directory

bloglovin

Top Blogs

 

Feeds and More
Subscribe via FeedBurner

[Subscribe]

RDF
RSS 2.0
Atom
Credits
Site Hosting:
Solid Solutions

Powered by:
MovableType

Title Banner Photo:
Shirley Harshenin

Creative Commons License
  This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons License

Mint Installation

Performancing Metrics

Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

Valid XHTML 1.0

Valid CSS!

© 2003-15 Charlie Hatton
All Rights Reserved