Sunday, August 8, 2010

Broke da slippa

What a catastrophe. Today my slipper broke. For those of you who are non-Hawaiian, this means that my flip flop came apart. We aren't talking about some $1.99 pair from the local drug store.  These were expensive puppies from the Birkenstock store. Yes, arch support and everything; custom fit Chacos.

I guess I was expecting that since I put down a pretty penny on these orthopedic wonders, that they would last maybe more than a couple of years. But, alas, I was wrong. At first, they were feeling a bit looser than I remembered them being. Then, "kapow", we have separation, Houston. The toe-hold came right off and my footbed was left dangling in the wind.  Luckily, I was only casually strolling through my dining room (these were my cherished indoor slippers). What if, God forbid, I had been running down the street being chased by my nasty cat-eating neighbor-dogs?! 


Last week, I tempted fate and donned my righteous-consumer-hat and managed to exchange a cloth tote bag at Walmart that I had bought several months previously.  It was beginning to fall apart. "Obviously poor craftsmanship", I explained to the customer service people. They all gathered around the fraying edges of the bag, tssking at the idea that such poor-quality items would be sold at their store. I didn't even bother to wash the coffee stains off or pick the ground-in dog food from the inside. I was so confident that I would be in the right, I threw caution and cleanliness to the wind.


These slippers, however, are another matter. On the one hand, I've already pushed my luck with the Chaco distributors here. My last pair of Chaco sandals (you know, the ones that look like Teevas with the winding strap around your foot), started coming apart at the sole. I promptly returned them and then promptly forgot that I had returned them. I kid you not, it took almost two years to retrieve them and for all my troubles, they just replaced them with new ones.  On the other hand, I am not anxious to send these beloved-but-broken sandals into the black hole of shoe repair. I need indoor shoes NOW.


Oh, woe is me. This time "nothing lasts forever" outweighs "you get what you pay for". As my friend used to tell me, "It may not be right, but it is so". I guess they were starting to stink anyway.



1 comment:

Becca said...

Yep, those are some sour grapes, ya?
Man I love you! Sorry about your slippahs.