I have size eight feet. That means dress socks fit fine, but when it comes to white athletic socks, I have to buy boys’ socks.
And yes, I always feel so creepy when I go buy them. I have to look around and hope that nobody else is in the tiny aisle buying socks too. Then I start thinking, “Do I look old enough to have a kid?”
If there are kids there, I try not to stare at the kids. And then subconsciously not to look down at the feet. Do they have bigger feet than I do?
Then as I’m trying to find the right size, I’m focusing and thinking, “Don’t stare at the kids on the packaging. At least make it look like you’re looking at the socks and not the kids. Idiot, why do you have to try? You really are looking at the socks.”
Then I’m trying to find calf socks, but not the ones that go up to the knees, and not the short crew ones either. I’m taking too long, shit hurry up you pedo.
All of this could be avoided if they just made more accurately-sized mens socks. “Sizes 6-12.” Bullshit. How the hell did you manage to design socks to fit six shoe sizes? Six! That’s impossible. You guys designed shoes down to the half-size, and here you’re telling me these magic socks will fit a range of six shoe sizes?
There was nothing more disappointing than ripping open the plastic wrap and putting on socks in the Target parking lot to find that gray patch that’s supposed to be on my heel was way up by my ankle. So much was said with so little.