I Hate My ESD Shoes

Last week I ran over a parking meter downtown. I was pulling up curbside outside of Jennifer’s work on D Street. My front tire hit the curb because I angled in too much and hadn’t slowed down enough yet. The hit against the concrete startled me especially since I hadn’t drank any coffee. I reacted too fast and I intended to slam on the brakes but I didn’t move my foot over to the left far enough to clear the gas pedal. As I jammed my foot down I hit both the brake and the gas at the same time. The Cougar popped over the curb onto the sidewalk and the front end started rising upwards. I nailed a parking meter and bent the shit out of the pipe it was mounted on. About fifteen people on both sides of the street stopped what they were doing to stare at me completely fucking up.

Backing down off the sidewalk I parked the car properly in another spot just forward of the meter I clobbered and got out of the car to inspect the damage. Much to my amazement I couldn’t find a single dent or scratch in the front end of the car. The Cougar is practically indestructable, it has taught me this time and time again. I’ve had about seven people run into me with their vehicles over the years and only one of those accidents did any real body damage. In that particular case all I had to do was use my tire iron against the fender well to clear the rear tire enough to drive home. Every other accident I got into the other driver had to have their car towed away after smashing into my beast.

Anyway, hitting the curb that hard probably wasn’t the best thing for my front end alignment. A few people were still standing around watching me as I walked over to my victimized parking meter. The pipe was bent away from the street and into the path of passing pedestrians on the sidewalk. It looked pretty damn funny. Since there happened to be so many witnesses to my stupidity I did the right thing and called the police department from a payphone nearby and finked on myself. I told them I wiped out one of their meters and to come over and check it out. Had it been later in the day with no witnesses around I probably would have split the scene hit and run style. I’m dirtbag like that. Fifteen minutes later a nice blonde haired Police Technician lady showed up in one of those goofy little three wheeled carts that hateful meter maids drive and she took a report from me.

This embarrassing episode was made possible in part by my brand new ESD shoes. Bill and Dave’s company buys us a pair of ESD shoes once a year, if we want them. I usually wear black wingtips to work every day but for some strange reason I decided to take them up on the free work shoes offer. I don’t know what I was thinking. Our prime contractor for ESD shoes is Red Wing. I went to the Red Wing store with paperwork from our company that allowed me to pick out a pair of shoes up to a certain dollar amount, I think it was slightly over a hundred bucks. Browsing the different styles they had available on the salesfloor I decided none of them looked very sharp. I reluctantly took a pair of ESD shoes that were disguised as wingtips, but wingtips meant for clowns or mutants or something. The rubber soles were so thick that it reminded me of footwear a retard might have on when one leg is longer than the other one.

I wasn’t used to driving the Cougar anymore. I was entirely used to driving dopey Ford Tauruses though. When you combine not driving your car for months, wearing new ESD shoes with wide, thick soles that you aren’t used to at all and add a parking meter to the mix… bad things will happen. With my old wingtips I instinctively knew how far to move my foot right or left for gas or brake pedal. I didn’t take into account the wider soles of these Red Wing retarded shoes when I jammed down on what I thought would be my brakes. Damn. Now I really hate these vile shoes and I’m going back to my old smelly wingtips. I’ll keep these Red Wings until I figure out a suitable punishment for them. Throwing them in the fireplace would be too good for them. Perhaps I should put them to death under a band saw. I’ll give it some thought as they must be made to pay for their crimes.


~ by factorypeasant on March 31, 2005.

5 Responses to “I Hate My ESD Shoes”

  1. wow yoy suck at driving, do not pass go move to japan!

  2. Not the shoes fault it’s the drivers fault. Can you spell DRAMA?!? I bet you don’t take responsibility for anything you do wrong.

  3. Bonnie,

    I got more drama going on than the Shakespeare festival in Ashland Oregon. Those guys just can’t compete with me.

  4. Sorry that you didn’t enjoy your Red Wings. I wouldn’t be without mine. They’re rather pricey (about $150)– but I wear them all day long for 6 days a week and they literally last years and years. I’ve chosen several styles that are especially comfortable on factory, concrete floors. And not having to wear and ESD heel strap like my co-workers is a big plus for me.

  5. Your story is hilarious. Reminds me of the Seinfeld show where Cramer wears those goofy shoes that were supposed to build up your jumping muscles and he’s mistaken for a special needs person because his dental anesthesia hadn’t worn off yet!

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