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!”