Birkenstocks, those wacky comfortable sandals, have been in my life forever. They await me at the door whenever I come home. I have no idea how many pairs I have purchased over the years.
On my closet shelves sit twenty shoe boxes filled with shoes I haven’t worn since the pandemic started. I wear my walking shoes or my “clogs” when I go out, my Birkies at home.
One day last week, I found myself in my car on the way to the grocery store wearing my Birkenstocks. I rejected the idea of returning home and decided no one would notice that I forgot to put on my outside shoes.
In the grocery store, I was spending a long time in the birthday card aisle, and a woman seemed to be Covid-annoyed at my lingering. She spoke to me.
“Where did you get your shoes?” she asked. “I can’t find them anywhere!”