Shoes

As many of you know I do not believe in buying shoes worth more the $20, but do you know the reason behind my belief?

High school sucks for most people, but I really had a hard time. Did I have great times? Of course I did. Was high school damaging? Yes, but who hasn’t been damaged by high school? Unlike other people, I did not peak in high school. I knew I would escape and make something of my life.

Now that we are off topic let me get back to the story:

Picture it. It’s the eighth grade, beginning of the second semester. One Saturday I was out shopping with my Mom, and on account of having good grades and great behavior my Mom decided to treat me to the new Nike basketball sneakers. They were amazing! I couldn’t wait to show them off to all my friends. Well Monday finally came around and I brought my new sneaks in and locked them up in my locker till gym class. If you were wondering why I did not wear them to school, I went to private school and had to wear a uniform.

I got along with most of the guys in my class, but had a real hard time with the older guys and the guy a grade below me. I knew every single person by name at my school, and was one of the nicest guys enrolled, and also a teacher’s pet; so naturally people didn’t like me. I loved/hated gym class. It was a time to chill out and play around, but I dreaded the locker room. I used to get beat up on a weekly basis. A punch here, a kick there, a slur everywhere by sophomore year it became so bad, my gym teacher had to stand in the locker room till I was done getting dressed. Of course this added to the torment, but I don’t think I ever told Mr. Eller how grateful I was for him watching out for me.

So back to the story, lunch was just about over and gym was only minutes away. After I cleaned off my spot at the table, I made my way to the locker room. The first thing I saw was my lock was broken and my gym bag was gone! I looked everywhere for it and finally found it. I found my gym uniform soaked and strewn across the shower floor and in the corner I saw my new duffle ripped apart, zipper broken and also soaked. Inside were my brand new shoes drenched in spit, urine, and what looked like streaks of semen. I was so angry, sad, and disgusted at the same time I didn’t know what to do. I picked up my clothes and realized they were also drenched in piss. Angrily I threw them into my bag, collected my belongings and walked out of the locker room and straight to the bathroom. I never let them see me cry, although I knew I was about to burst at any second.

The bathroom was “closed for cleaning.” I didn’t care, I knew the janitor and he was cool. I burst through the doors, tears now streaming down my face. I forcefully stuffed the entire duffle into the trash can. Mr. Willis came running over; he was only two stalls away. He asked me “What’s the matter?” as he pulled my bag out of the trash can. As I was scrubbing my hands to get the stench and germs off of them, I told him everything. I believe this is the point in my life when my cleanliness OCD began. He tried to convince me I could just was everything and it will be alright. I yelled, “No, because everyone will know.” He begged me a few times to think about the situation before I threw my possessions away. I told him my mind was set and that was that. I stuffed it back into the trash can and with tears in his eyes Mr. Willis tied up the bag and took it to the dumpster for me. On the way he dropped me off at the principal’s office.

Before I went to talk to Mr. Hobbs, the school secretary let me call my Mom. While waiting for my Mom to arrive I again rehashed the last twenty minutes and explained the situation to my principal. I call my Mom, Mama Bear because she is always there to protect her cubs. I wasn’t even done telling Mr. Hobbs what had happened when she came barging in.

Mom was up to bat, yelling and crying, and out for blood…I mean justice. The only explanation my principal had to offer was “Boys will be boys.” Furious that this was the only thing he had to offer, Mom ran to Mr. Willis and Mr. Eller. All three of them stopped what they were doing and jumped into the dumpster to look for my stuff. I stood there begging them to stop. I told them no matter if they found them or not, I still was NOT going to wear them ever again.

At that moment Mr. Willis found them and they hopped out. He gave the bag to Mom and I took her and told her not to worry, I was going to be fine. I walked back over to the dumpster and dropped it in. With tears in my eyes I asked my Mom to take me home. She did and at that very moment I vowed never to buy a pair of shoes more then $20, because they were only going to wear out and there was no point in wasting that money.

Well cut to eleven years later, and Adidas comes out with these amazing, light weight, blue sneaks with these awesome zigzags on the sole. After an entire decade of cheap shoes, and obviously not getting over the torture of that day, I decided I am going to check them out. As soon as I tried them on, a wave a relief and empowerment came over me. I am an adult now and do not take any crap from anybody. Why should I keep this wound open? With the swipe of my little green card, I became the owner of a $90 pair of amazing running shoes. Not only did I finally seal up a deep wound with this purchase, I also gave a metaphoric “screw you” to the jackasses who tortured me in high school.

That’s my story, just thought I would share it with you…and get it off my chest after eleven years!!!