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'Faded Seaside Glamour' - Delays |
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Running in flip-flops is not, as I have recently discovered, a wise idea...
The front ends have an awful habit of catching on the ground and rather sneakily tucking themselves underneath the rest of the somewhat flimsy soles. This ultimately results in the wearer suffering not only severely grazed appendages, but also the extreme embarrassment that only falling flat on one's face mid-sprint can cause.
Funny that as I sit here writing this a shorts-clad couple, both sporting brightly coloured flip-flops, have pegged it past me. Now, while it may be raining – spitting, really – safety must come first. Surely a campaign should be launched to warn and inform the ardent flip-floppers of the nation of the extreme threat their choice of footwear poses to not only them, but everyone and everything around them.
After all, it is only human to reach out and grab on to the nearest thing in a usually futile attempt to prevent oneself from greeting the floor with one's face. Unfortunately, on today's bustling streets the 'nearest thing' is more likely to be another, soon to be unpleasantly surprised, person who, in their shock, also begins to keel over and therefore frantically grab at the 'nearest thing'. If this action continued from person to person like the domino effect, surely the best part of a small town would end up on the floor... all because some dipstick decided to run in flip-flops.
Speaking of flip-flops, I would love to know just who invented them. Some years back I got it into my head that they were the sick idea of some jolly French bloke known as Feeleep Fillop, or something like that. Then I changed my mind and was convinced he was a golfer... and then that he both invented flip-flops and played golf professionally.
Much to my dismay, I was informed yesterday that this caricature of gaiety is, in fact, a figment of my decidedly overactive imagination. Completely fictional...
Then again, and having said, what if the mysterious Mr Fillop is in fact real? Perhaps he is an evil mastermind, luring unsuspecting victims to his secret lair and/or torture chamber by offering them countless pairs of free flip-flops. Or maybe he isn't French at all, maybe he's a Filipino... yes, a jolly golf-addicted flip-flopping Filipino. He sounds rather funky. I bet he wears sombreros too... and has a handlebar moustache...
I must meet this man.
In closing, flip-flops are death-traps, and Feeleep Fillop is going to save us all.
Warmest regards,
Fish x
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