Robert Robus on shoes

As our lowermost accoutrements, shoes generally take the most egregious wear and tear of any vestments I, Robert Robus--or any other human or quasi-human being, for that matter--elect to don. Among the ranks of these venerable chunks of leather, canvas, and/or mesh are found sneakers, loafers, business shoes, etc, etc. . .as well as high heels--a species of shoe which quite admittedly leaves I, Robert Robus, in a state of sensory and cardiovascular arousal to which most every male being, at one time or another, is condemned. Yet I will not allow myself to be aroused by such salacious footwear! For I, Robert Robus, am not easily seduced.

As I was saying, shoes are the most wonderful of accoutrements of which I, Robert Robus, could possibly conceive. They are stitched from the finest of leather (which in turn is culled from the finest of livestock); designed by some of the subtlest minds ever to cause neurons to fire within any cerbral cortex; and marketed by the dames and gentlemen with the loftiest stores of advertising acumen in the history of Western civilization. Indeed, it is solely and completely owing to the prior invention of sneakers that Einstein was able to discov--Oh, but look! Wait a minute, dear readers! A positively ravishing dame in red high-heeled sneakers is strolling this way! I must stay cool! I must stay relaxed! I must assure myself that I, Robert Robus, remembered to take Imodium A-D when I left my abode this fine morn! Does my breath smell sweet and fine? Are my armpits desiccated? Is my visage so finely razed as to match or exceed silk in appearance and delicacy?

Ah, here comes the dame in question. I shall address her:

My lady, may I say that I admire the footwear you've chosen to sport this fine morning? It matches so nicely that scanty skirt (which you have also elected to assume) in both texture and appearance! It would be my wish, of course, to see such vestments quickly doffed; and had I a lamp, I would rub it (so as to summon the genie from out its confines) toward the end of accomplishing such a glorious end. Out here in the countryside there would be no spectators; so what say you, dame?

What? Are you slapping me? Ungrateful dame! I shall tell your mother! And furthermore, I was prevaricating in the discourse which transpired not half a minute previous: I do not, in fact, dig your footwear! Those shoes are not a cause of arousal in me; in fact, they seem rather more inclined to elicit ralphing than delight! And so, with an eye to that very inclination, which I have now duly noted, I must visit that bush not five metres distant from this stretch of lane; and, in conjunction with (and correlative of) that visit, I must also bid you, my faithful readers, adieu. Read my column another day for more illuminating commentary, and many further ridiculous narratives, from the desk of I, Robert Robus.