Vaseline
I had the tub of Vaseline out and it wasn’t even 8 am.
Don’t you love crafting sentences that you know no one has ever written before? This is what writing is all about. I mean, look at that opening sentence. In the history of mankind, no one has ever written those words, in that order. I am sure of it. I will bet anyone. If you can show otherwise, I will provide you with free groceries for life.
Having said all this, you will probably be disappointed with the rest of this post. If you were thinking what I am thinking you were thinking (in reference to the early morning lube job) then, indeed, you will be let down. Still, read on. You may still find this story interesting. Also, you may find the tip I am about to reveal useful in your own life.
You see, lately, I have been squeaking when I walk. Not me, personally, but my shoes. I find this troubling. I have in the past returned shoes to the store where I bought them because they squeaked.
“I would like to return these shoes.”
“And the reason, sir?”
“They squeak.”
“They squeak?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
<Pause>
The pause by the store representative is meant to imply that just maybe it is me that squeaks. Because people do squeak. I am convinced of it. Shoe salesmen understand this. A perfectly good pair of shoes on the wrong person, a really uptight person who has never once cracked a smile or danced the “hoochie-coochie” or told a “pull my finger” joke can actually transmit that anal-retentiveness right down to the soles of his shoes and squeak when he walks.
In my case, the squeaking is only from the shoes. I bought a pair of ankle-high hiking boots recently. I really like them. They are comfortable and cool looking and provide good support. But they squeak when I walk. Every step. Squeak. They drive me crazy. I put up with the noise from these shoes for a few months because I was too busy to fuss about it and because I figured out a way to walk on the sides of my feet, which kept the squeaking to a minimum. Unfortunately, the overcompensation by walking funny led to hip pain, temporary blindness (although that could have been the cheap wine), excessive dental plaque (possibly from cream-filled donuts) and an ornery disposition. Anyway, I figured enough was enough. Either I find a way to stop squeaking when I walk or I return the shoes.
This morning I inspected my hiking boots and discovered that they have a removable insole. The insole has a rubbery margin that fits loosely against the smooth surface of the bottom of the shoe. There is enough play in there that when I walk the insole slides around and squeaks like a whoopee cushion with each step.
That’s when I came up with the idea of using Vaseline. Perhaps if I spread it on the insole around the edges it would provide enough lubrication to keep the shoes from squeaking. So that’s why I had the tub of Vaseline out before 8 am this morning. It was, as we call it in the scientific community, a plan.
The good news is my plan worked. The shoes are now completely quiet. I navigated the halls of my office building today without making a sound. All day I had a big smile on my face. A few people looked at me strangely. And rightfully so. Nobody walks around smiling all the time unless they are insane. I would tell them, “I just stopped squeaking!” But I don’t think that alleviated their fears.
11:13:59 PM  Stories
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