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Treacherous Heaps of Discarded Footwear

New Year - the time of year when we, fuelled by expired Christmas leftovers, look within and make some substantial life-altering goals such as electing to submit our unsuspecting body to surprising bouts of unsolicited exercise and resolving to forgo delightfully staple food groups like carbohydrates, chocolates, and KFC in a quest to determine whether we truly can trim our waistline by consuming a mere lettuce leaf and 2 rice cakes daily without gnawing off our own arms out of sheer hunger. 

We humans take this job of setting New Year’s Resolutions very, very seriously; after all we fully intend to stick to them for the rest of the calendar year (I am using the term “calendar year” here in the sense of “for at least the first 5 days of January”). Previously I made the rookie mistake of severely over-estimating my ability to rise to the challenge of a multi-pronged New Year’s Resolutions list, therefore this year I have made only one. In 2011, I resolve to look at my feet more often.

You see; I was recently shopping with a friend in a clothing store. Now this wasn't just any store, this store was not too preoccupied with menial tasks such as re-merchandising their shelves after customers discard store items on the floor. This routinely results in alarming quantities of clothing gathering in large, organized masses on their floor. This place is so dangerous; it would be an ideal location for the next television season of Wipeout.

On this particular shopping excursion I was browsing in the shoe section when something in my lower right extremities suggested that I might have something snagged on my right foot. But I cast that vague suspicion aside in order to focus on more pressing issues such as successfully mountaineering over a huge pile of running shoes on the floor in front of me without plunging off it and dislocating a hip.

As we continued to lunge gracefully over treacherous heaps of discarded footwear, the foot-entanglement issue nagged occasionally at my subconscious. However, I ignored it valiantly and focused on the few items that were miraculously still residing on the shelves. Ten minutes later when the shopping flurry subsided and we were proceeding to the checkout, I finally glanced down and saw... hooked on my right slop... A GIANT PAIR OF PINK PANTIES!! Verily folks; there is nothing quite as mortifying as realising you have been traipsing around in public for about fifteen minutes boldly trailing a pair of XXXL underdrawers in your wake!

At this point my friend helpfully pointed out that it looked like they’d fallen off me and slipped down my leg! Superb. I couldn't seem to step out of them, so I flicked my leg nonchalantly and they flew off and perched on the foot of a gentleman sitting nearby trying on shoes. At which point we both feigned sincere interest in the nearby collection of boys’ Spiderman socks. 

Hence the New Year’s Resolution. Sure there are many hazards associated with focusing entirely on one’s feet such as walking into low riding cupboards or being hit by a car as you cross the road. But my mother always said; "You never know when you could be in a car accident and taken to an emergency room, so always make sure you’re wearing decent underwear!" Well if that happens, I intend to only be wearing one pair of panties!

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