Today, as I innocently walked down my street, just yards from my own front door, my SOCKS were solicited by a self-proclaimed foot-fetishist in a passing pick-up truck.
Yep. That happened.
A blue pick-up truck stopped in the middle of my street, and the driver rolled down the passenger window and beckoned me toward him. He was an average-looking young man, twenty-ish, and I assumed he was going to ask me for directions, as this happens pretty regularly.
"Excuse me, " he said with a strangely excited, flushed face. "This is really embarrassing, and really weird, but I have a foot fetish and I was wondering if I could buy your socks." His voice cracked, and he looked desperate. "I'll pay you ten, twenty bucks if you'll just give them to me."
I would have paid him more to describe the look on my face at that moment, which I'm sure was an ugly mixture of shock and outrage.
"No, that's weird," I replied stiffly, and practically ran toward my house, where I immediately related the exchange to Mike, whose mouth promptly dropped open.
And then, as usual, the attempts at analysis began. Here are a few theories we came up with to explain this deviant behavior:
1. It was a dare. He was pretty young; even though he seemed to be alone in the truck, a friend may have been hunkered down behind the seat, snickering. It was a pretty small truck, though.
2. He was conducting a sociological experiment, measuring public reactions to sexual deviance. Or how far women will go when asked. Mike pointed out, though, that it was too legally risky for an official study.
These theories are, as Mike pointed out, preferable to the idea that fetishists can prey upon complete strangers at will. But maybe that's what happened. A few months ago, my friend Jessica posted a photo of herself on her blog with bare feet in the background, and a foot fetishist from Spain left a comment praising her feet and offering her a free trip to Spain so he could see them in person.
Listen, I don't have anything against benign fetishists, i.e., people who keep their fetishes to themselves and consenting adults who share them. But, if they ask me, or Jessica, or other innocents, the answer is NO: we will not sell you our sweaty socks, nor will we allow you to caress our feet in Spain.
The answer is, and always will be, NO.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
5 comments:
I'm just gonna say it. I might let someone caress my feet in Spain. I mean, I appreciate that you're grossed-out, but I've never been to Europe. And I could use the vacation.
Man, I wonder if the foot fetishists are just out this season or what. You know, now that I think of it, I once saw someone selling their old, sweaty Keds on craigslist and the seller was targeting fetishists.
So effing weird.
Also, the only reason Em is going to let someone caress her feet in Spain is because someone already caressed her feet during the Super Bowl. Such loose morals, Em.
Judge not. We've all got a our faults. (I knew it would come back to the superbowl, but I had to make the joke anyway.)
hahahahahaha. Oh, that fateful Superbowl. The foot incident is the only thing I remember about it.
I think there are an increasing number of foot fetishists, and that their rising numbers are making them bold. A friend who used to be a bartender said she (and several other bartenders she knew) received anonymous requests that she bartend with one shoe off. Why?!
I don't know if the number is rising or if the fetishists, connected and encouraged by their internet presence, are becoming more bold.
Post a Comment