For no reason whatsoever I started worrying about my feet. Then I realized the worry was due to reading the Habitat for Humanity Volunteer Handbook for the first time. Open-toed shoes, flip-flops, and Crocs are strictly forbidden. Running shoes/sneakers are okay, but the Habitat folks strongly recommend steel-toed shoes.
Which is why I started worrying. I don't own any steel-toed shoes. And I figured I'd better get some. Pronto.
Steel-toed shoes convey a sense of know-how about fixing things that in my case is fictitious. When you see people wearing steel-toed shoes you realize they probably have jobs that require a particular skillset that combines athleticism with danger, like shimmying up electrical poles or installing cable tv. They're not for pansies like me with indoor jobs.
In the course of the day I conferred with my friend Peter, who owns a farm in Oklahoma. "You need pig boots," he advised.
Pig boots?
"Yes." He was serious. He's the proud owner of several pair himself. They are plastic boots that reach almost up to your knees. You can tuck your pant legs into them and they'll stay dry. Intuitively I figured out that their name comes from the fact that some folks use them when slopping the hogs.
He assured me that I can find them when I get to Biloxi. Relieved, I made a compromise. I purchased waterproof boots that look like they have steel toes but don't. In the end, I wimped out. That little "electrocution hazard" icon on the box of the steel-toed boots is what did it. I think I'd rather drop a two-by-four on my waterproof boots and risk hurting my toe than getting zapped because of my shoes.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Do they come in red?
Post a Comment