My Shoes Are Too Fucking Loud

I bought them at the beginning of last year. Cost a pretty penny. Brown leather, zips on the sides. They’re great, except for the fucking soles. There’s wood, then there’s rubber underneath the wood. Except, after having worn them for all but half a dozen times, the rubber on the edge of the heel has been worn away and now there’s just fucking wood. Hard, solid, loud wood.

I used to have strident soles like these back in primary school. Shoes undergirded with really hard, loud soles. Walking down the halls, the constant click-clack-click-clack sounded more like a slutty high-heeled teacher than a kid with cheap shoes. Of course, back then, I was young and oblivious. No testosterone, too much video games. I didn’t give a fuck.

Now, however, I’m trying to be handsome and sharp and suave and I sound like a horse on a wooden stage. That, and the dress pants I brought fit fine except they hug my ass like fucking latex. Though heavy squats and deadlifts have made me hella callipygian, they also make my thighs and ass bulge out disproportionately. I dress like this, trying to look cool, trying to look handsome. But, walking along the bricked terraces and linoleum floors of campus, I look and sound like a gay tap dancer.

Or maybe I don’t. Maybe I’m imagining things. I’m self-conscious because every time someone asks me ‘why did you dress so fancy today?’, the already tenuous grip I have on my self-esteem gets rattled a little bit more. Because I want to look sharp, goddamnit. I figure I’m a handsome, interesting, attractive guy. The irony is that I feel like an idiot when I try and act like it.

I’m going to take the shoes in so that they can glue some industrial-strength rubber to the heels. I’ll sound like Solid fucking Snake on any surface.

On the bright side, I seem to have gotten everything above the waist right. Sick V-taper, bro.

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