I hath giveth it away.
No, not my virginity. That’s long gone and I might as well have included a free beach towel with the promotion, as anxious as I was for signers. I’m talking about my last pair of running shoes.
My mother would not be pleased to read this. She was hesitant to fork over the cash for those Nikes in the first place. This transaction (we’re staying on the shoes, now) may have occurred four years ago, but as she expected they remained as clean and white as my apple bottom booty.
I’m guessing they’ve long since been snapped up from the Goodwill in Roseville, MN. They’re probably in use, as we speak, pounding some machine alternative to the now icy, Minneapolis-area sidewalks. To that I say, good for you, health conscious bargain seeker. Someone might as well use ‘em, because I am never running again. Ever.
Being chased is, obviously, another matter; but I’m just embracing this season of resolutions with honesty. I’ve got stretching and living room dance parties to keep me both sprightly and virile.
We had a good time, though, cardio and I. Sophomore year of high school I was even on the cross country team. Funnily enough, this always seems to come back to me from within a cloudy haze, which is probably why my friends always have such a hard time wrapping their heads around it.
