Shoe Tattoos

Couple years ago I bought these white tennis shoes to kick around in. Figured I could use them for general travel while on the road. Day one, I go golfing in a swamp.  After 9-holes, they resembled the Creature from the Black Lagoon’s rugby kicks. I never got them clean again. They became instant work shoes; so I painted, did shit jobs with them and lamented the fact that although seemingly trashed, they were very comfortable.

So on a whim recently, I attempted one final rescue. I soaked them in detergent for a few  hours, scraped off the heaviest gobs of grit and took out my cheapest ball point pen. A couple of hours later–and a few episodes of some show I can’t recall–I had made my way around the souls of each one.

I think I found my travel shoes after all …