Loving Gifts

I'm feeling very very happy right now. : )
Positively beeming. : )

Why? you might ask. Because a few (and one in particular) good and old friends decided to buy me a pair of slipper crocs! There's so many levels to this that its hard to understand my joy without a little background. So here we go...

I've never been the most popular guy around. I've grown enough to understand and accept this fact. I know I'm not the most communicative of friends either, so people who never have had need of it, or simply didn't think so, wouldn't know my loyalty towards them as a friend. This adds to the fact that I'm not the friendliest person in the world, making my circle of friends, generally small and close... somewhat.

So as it all boils down, I don't get many wishes and presents over the years, so when I do get a present... you could say I get rather pleased. : )

Adding to that is the lovely people I recieved my crocs from. Three old, old friends; at times a little close, at times not so much. I meet them less times a year that I have hands (although we're trying to change this now). One of them in particular is special to me, she happens to be the first girl I seriously liked (and consequently got rejected from hah). But as the story has come along, the affection I had for her has changed my life; in no small part, God has used her to help me grow. And so, what a thrill it was that she would be one of the givers to this joy of mine.

Lastly, would be the circumstances under which such a present came to be. Now this is quite an entertaining story by most standards. Let me begin.

And so it came about, around the period of January 2009, that I came to accept the fact that my trusty old bright blue bata slippers had reached the end of thier life. It was time to get a new pair, one that would not slip in markets and tiles. And so I began to consider: What would make a good replacement?

Would then, another pair of batas be appropriate? Or should I, having lost the edge of youthful regeneration, buy a pair of slippers that would not bear such harm to my poor flat feet?

Thus for the first time in years, i began my search for a pair of... designer slippers. Havianas? They looked like expensive batas. Probably not. Birks? Great padding which moulded to your feet, but pricy and (more importantly) warm. Then, I chanced on... slipper crocs.

Now these crocs are not the ones which made it popular; in no way similar to the big clunky, gaudy colored clown shoes. These had a proper strap, looked normal, but still maintained thier most important feature... soles that made you feel as if you were walking on air. I was sold. Such a pair would meet all my conditions. Except... perhaps the price.

After paying S$5 for years for slippers, it seemed regularly insane to drop S$80+ on "sloppy footware".

And so began a few weeks of hmmm and hawing over this decision... Should I? Or should I not? A dear reader of this blog would know this fact in person. : ) In the end, my usual rational and pragmatic self won out... it just seemed too much of a luxury. I settled on making a trip to the same old bata shop i've been to since i was a wee lad, and paid S$5 for a pair of black bata "health slippers" (they've got those bumps that apparently help blood circulation).

I was settled. I was sure of my decision. I was resolved and at peace.

Three days later I found myself at dinner with two of the three friends (The third is now in Isreal), at a fancy Jap restaurant in Wheelock Place. At the stroke of 10 minutes to 9pm, towards the end of our dinner, I, in my new batas, flexed my then acheing feet and toes.

And with a silent pop, the slipper strap came undone.

In retrospect I could have done something a litte less wasteful, and a little more sane, but the emotion that gripped me immediately at that time was... rage. Helpless, foolish, useless, but utterly consuming rage. It felt like a joke was played on me; the hours of thought, consideration, and even the peace i had, lost to the rare shoddy make of my purchase. And so, angrily laughing to myself, I searched the building, only to find the only shop left open that sold footware in Wheelock... was New Urban Male.

Before that very day, I swear, I have NEVER stepped into a single New Urban Male outlet. Haunt of the flashy and the spoilt teenager I felt. Pretencious boys who spent thier parents' hard earned money on 'designer' clothes.

In my daze of rage, I went in, spoke firmly but polietly to the nearest sales assistant. A pair of slippers, Size 11, and make it quick. That is how I came about the purchase of my first ever Havianas, brown and striped, at a costly S$50.

I returned to my table, where my friends sat expectantly. And in my pique I gave my gripe of all that had happened, and all that could have been. I was still black as thunder, but at least I got a good yarn out of this misfortune. Its strange to enjoy the laughter of others when you're sour, but I quite did. Thanks again lovely people. : )

And so... perhaps now, you would understand a little of how much this gift means to me. Treasured friends, small pleasures, and perhaps, just perhaps; recieving something that I thought I would never have.

Thank you my dear friends. You have made me far happier than you can imagine. I thank God for you, and will dearly pray that I am able to give you something far greater in return. : )