Seriously.

I was in the market yesterday, and I noticed a display of flip-flops.  For those of you who don’t know, “Flip-Flops” is the technical term for inexpensive, backless sandals, usually made of rubber.  There are a variety of names associated with this casual footwear, but the intellectual elite know them as “Flip-Flops.”

Anyway, as I passed this display, I noticed that among the neon colors and flowered prints there was a variety of flip-flops with a manly design.  The background was sort of a dark, soldier-of-fortune camouflage, and centered on each sandal was a human skull.  I think the subtle message to the buyer was, “With every step you take, you can crush the lifeless heads of your enemies.”  The image that flashed into my mind was of Rambo—because I am that old—taking on a few thousand bad guys, crashing through the jungle carrying guns, grenades, and his massive knife.

And wearing flip-flops.

Doesn’t fit, does it?  Then I remembered hearing a comic (I didn’t catch her name or I would gladly give her credit) say that she would never date a man who wore flip-flops because of the difficulty he would have in dealing with a dangerous situation.

Let’s run with that for a moment—well, we can’t really run if we’re in flip-flops, but you know what I mean.  You’re out with your family, enjoying a beautiful summer day at the swap meet; you can call it a farmers’ market if that makes you feel better.  You’re wearing flip-flops, because that’s how you roll—or stumble, as the case may be.  Suddenly, you are confronted with one of the following Danger Scenarios.  Let us examine your response to…

Danger Scenario #1: You are approached by a gang of drug-addled thugs intent on harming you and your loved ones.

You, brave man that you are, position yourself between your loved ones and the forces of evil.  The leader comes at you with a knife and a wicked grin.  You move to kick the knife from his hand, but since you’re wearing flip-flops you slip ever so slightly and kick the knife rather than Mr. Thug’s wrist.  The knife goes through the rubber sole of your flip-flop like a knife through the rubber sole of a flip-flop.  Impaled and in pain, you collapse in a pool of chagrin.  Your family is so embarrassed that they opt to go live with Mr. Thug.  As consciousness fades, your last thought is, “Why, oh why did I have to wear flip-flops?”

Danger Scenario #2: A terrorist is planting a nuclear bomb under the hot dog stand.

Your eagle eye immediately detects a man bent over a collection of wires, electronic doo-dads, and what looks suspiciously like a stack of plutonium.  Unseen by Mr. Evil, you sneak up behind him, utilizing all the skills you developed during your years as an American Ninja.  You are betrayed by the distinctive th-kcop, th-kcop sound of your footwear.  Mr. Evil turns and presents you with a nine-millimeter surprise.  In the final microsecond before the lights go out, you wonder, “Why, oh why did I–?”

Danger Scenario #3: A fleet of alien ships (space aliens, not undocumented migrant workers) descends upon the swap meet, hurling multicolored death.

There is no way to fight them here; you must get home to your secret room beneath the basement, where your arsenal awaits.  You gather your children in your brawny arms, shielding them with your body.  You turn to run…

but you’re wearing flip-flops.

There is no time for a final thought.  There is only pain.

I’m not saying you need to wear combat boots every time you go out in public, but for cryin’ out loud, get a pair of sneakers or something!