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When I was 17 years old, I drove to the beach with a friend of mine. I had a Jeep Wrangler with the top down. Before I left my house, I grabbed a pair of my summer shoes out of my closet; otherwise, known as my shoe storage. I call them my summer shoes because I would ware them without sox. So by the end of the summer, they would stink up my shoe storage with the scent of bad feet. On the way to the beach, we stopped at my parents self storage unit to pick up my surfboard and beach chair.
The beach wasn’t crowded that day and I was able to park my Jeep close to the beach access. Since lockers were not available I left shirt and smelly shoes in the back of my jeep. I wasn’t worried about anyone running off with my shirt and smelly shoes, because, first of all it was just a shirt and smelly shoes; second, we were in a safe richy town. Plus, its not like the shirt and shoes were in plain view. My Jeep had a small compartment in the back that was great for shoe storage.
We had a great time on the beach that day. The surf was rolling in and the sun was hot. If we got too hot, we’d just jump into the ocean with our surfboards and cool off on some waves.
When we were done with the beach scene we walked back to the Jeep. I opened the shoe storage compartment to retrieve my shirt and smelly shoes. But to my surprise, they were missing. I was baffled. I couldn’t understand where they went. It didn’t even cross my mind until later that they were stolen, because I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to take my used pair of smelly shoes and my used shirt. The only thing that was left behind was the remains of smelly shoe order in the shoe storage.
The adventure doesn’t stop here. We stop at a convenience store to pickup our daily slurpies, only I was not allowed in with my bare feet. So I sent in my friend in to get my slurpy. That did not work out too well; he thought it would be funny to mix up my slurpy with coffee and root beer.
Next we went back to my parent’s storage unit to drop off my surfboard. I did not realize it until then that they had shoe storage in the storage unit. Unfortunately, the only men’s shoes that fit my feet were an old pair of my dad’s white loafers. I really wanted to go back to the convenience store and get an uncontaminated slurpy, so I put them on.
When I walked into the convenience store, the clerk recognized me as a bare footer and looked down to check my feet. He began laughing and the laughter became contagious to the other customers in the store. I walked out, slurpiless and drove home.
From that day forward, I locked my shoe storage compartment in my jeep every time I went to the beach. I don’t want to be caught bare footed again.
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Disclamer: This entry is intended to promote our partner StorageMart and some or all participants received compensation.
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