Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Everything is a pain in the ass...

Everything is a pain in the ass (EIAPITA).  These flip-flops prove it.  They are one small thing out of millions of things that are a pain in the ass, but they are the most recent, so they have become the placeholder for now.  A material icon and representation of the concept of all that is a pain in the ass.

I'm pretty sure my dad taught me this concept, though I can't exactly pinpoint it to a day or a particular thing.   I only know that  over time what has always been a fact of his life, became a fact of mine.   At some point it became a running joke between us.  I would say "Dad, you know what this is...."  and he would reply "It's a pain in the ass!!!!!"  EIAPITA manifests itself in many forms.  It can be physical (I bang my head, I hit my elbow, I roll my ankle) and it can be mental (I just sat down, is the remote seriously 5 steps away).  It can be trivial ( I spilled all the coffee I just ground), or serious (I gave myself second degree burns using the iron to get ready for church).  Regardless of its form, EIAPITA permeates every pore of my being and makes me shout at the world and the creator for making everything so damn difficult!

Now then, back to the flip flops.  How in the world can EIAPITA have a role in a cheap pair flip-flops you ask?  It's not the flip flops themselves (their construction, design, quality,etc..), it's the way they came into my life that make them a PITA.

Nikki and I were getting ready to attend a wine club event (more on that in another post)  and I got ready in plenty of time.  It was hot, so I wore shorts, a white button down cubano type shirt, and sneakers.   I then sat down to catch a small part of the football game before we had to leave.  About 15 minutes before go time, Nikki walks in to have me attach her bracelet, glimpses at my shoes and declares, "Oh no, you can't wear those" (PITA #1).  I plead my case that we are going to a pig roast, in a barn, in 100 degree weather.  I'm quite sure these shoes will do.  Since you know about the flip-flops already, I'll skip the cursing and tantrum part about not having time to go to the store and move on.

We zip out the door, but realize we have to stop by my sister's house to drop off a birthday gift and bring back some borrowed items (PITA #2).  Sorry sis.   As we're leaving the neighborhood, Nikki uses her iphone to confirm there is a Kohl's in Napa on the way (that's actually an anti PITA).

We make it to the downtown area in good time, I take my usual route and make the usual turns and....are you freaking kidding me!!!!! Main Street is blocked for an event (PITA #3).  I navigate, get close, park, and jog over to the the store.  It's 100 degrees out, so I start sweating, not what you want when headed to an event (PITA #4).

I get in, make my selection, head to the counter and realize there are 6 people in the line ahead of me (PITA#5).  I run to the other side of the store, and there are no people in line (Anti PITA #2).   I smile, tell the clerk that's all I have, and she begins the search for the barcode.  And you know it right away, don't you?  There's no f*@%*$g barcode on this pair (PITA #6).  Now I have two options.  1. I can have her ask for a price check, or god forbid she go do it herself or 2. I can run back to the other side of the store myself because I know it will be quicker.  I opt for option 2 (PITA #6).  I pay quickly, run out of the store, back to the truck and we're on our way.  Damn, I'm still sweating (PITA#7).

So, you see, I now have a pair of flip flops, and they're fine.  I'll get good usage out of them enjoying what remains of the summer heat.  But every time I pick them up and put them on, I'll be reminded of the circumstances in which they were obtained, and I'll be reminded, once again the everything is a pain in the ass.

Hey everybody, you know what these flip flops are?

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