The worst kind of toe cleavage

Tonight I was at the gym minding my own business while keeping up a steady pace to Mulan’s “Be A Man” song, when I noticed a particularly handsome fellow.

Since this is an anomalous sighting for my gym at the time I usually attend, I was a little caught off guard. But pleased. Of course pleased.

So I do the standard check-out. I look at his face: nice. I look at his body: oh, very nice. And then I look at his feet. AND I SEE THESE:

A monstrosity of a shoe if there ever was one.

And just like that, my mind-lust turned to mind-mockery. Yo, I don’t CARE if they’re better for you–the barefoot movement is one thing if you’re playing beach volleyball, but keep your nerdy little feet-shaped shoes out of my eye-line.

Yes, I realize a lot of this vitriol has to do with my foot phobia. Why do you ask?

Why, hot gym guy? Why did you do this to me? I can’t ogle you after this! All I wanted to do was objectify someone at the gym, and now I can’t even do that. Thank you.

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3 responses to “The worst kind of toe cleavage

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