Wardrobe malfunction

So today I decided to buy myself some new running shoes/drinking shoes. I don’t like shopping, or communicating with people in stores, so I try to make the trip as quick as possible. Since I have to drive past a sporting goods store to get on the highway to go to work, it was meant to be a quick trip. I also generally buy the same shoe so to speak, pretty much every time. I’m not really one to buy in to trends. Think of me as an old jewish dude when it comes to footwear. I find what I like and I stick with it, until all the vietnamese children at the shoe factory have moved on. My foot hasn’t really grown in the last several years either, this should be a quick trip. So in I go, at the time of day where it is the least crowded. I fight the urge to buy fishing stuff, or a Griffey jersey, and I press on to the shoe section. I’m the only there. I find a shoe similar to the one I always get, same brand, similar color, they have my size. Perfect. I proceed to checkout. Since I picked the time of day when they have the fewest customers, I also picked the time of day when they have the fewest staff members working. I find myself in the only checkout lane behind a lesbian golfer trying to return items (golf equipment), some clearly used. Helping her in this task was a kid who was enjoying his first week out of school, who smelled like pot, and might have slept in his work shirt last night. So much for speed. Anywho, I finally pay, and head out, stopping back home for a quick snack, and to try on the shoes before I go back to work. Snack was great, but the vietnamese have fucked me again, these shoes are too small. Did New Balance decide to cut back on materials? Did I buy womens shoes? Have my feet grown without me noticing? This is very perplexing to me. I decide to head back to the office, I’ll swap out the shoes again later. Fast forward 5 hours. I return home, hoping the shoes have grown. Did I ever mention my dog is a cocksucker. He greets me at the door, which usually means nothing has been destroyed. Today he must have been feeling cocky, cause he showed no fear. He even followed me as I went to try on the shoes again. Instead of sitting in a box, in a bag, on a bar stool, one shoe was in the corner, the other in the middle of the room, tags and tissue paper strewn about. One shoe missing it’s in-sole, the box in shambles. Looks like I’m keeping the shoes after all. So now I have two problems to deal with. First, the asshole dog. Normal asskicking’s seem to have little or no lasting effect. I think he likes the attention, even if the attention he gets is from the business end of my foot. I’m going to have to find new methods. Right now, I’m leaning towards water-boarding the dog. My other problem is that I’m slowly realizing that my retarded methods for inter-acting socially might not be working. I may have to start following the social norms, and do little things like shoe shopping like a normal person. Could this mean no more waiting for people to come out of dressing rooms, and nailing them with a dodgeball from the store? I may just decide to go live off the grid. Not that i want to be a dirty hippie, but hemp shoes are a much better option than the alternative. Sitting in a chair at the shoe store, while some gay dude kneels down in front of me, people could get the wrong impression. I’ve got some soul searching to do.