There is a large wall full of hooks that I hang from. I hang here for weeks; although, I’m in the middle of the line with my twins in front and behind me. I’m surrounded by what seems to be my same species; however, we are all different colors and designs. We’re all the same though, just looking to get off the wall and make someone smile with our good looks. I people-watch all day, while people look methodically back at all of us.
Until one day, when I am finally at the front of the line. Wow, I can see the world so much better now! We are at 1515 Pacific Avenue, Santa Cruz, California. How do I know all this detailed information? Well, I am called the “Men’s Einstein Socks” for a reason, I’m pretty insightful or at least that’s what I’m known for. On the front of my tag I have a big “S” logo, meaning I come from the land of Socksmith.
I remember Socksmith, it was a big party there. Thousands upon thousands of socks all piled high in the warehouse, while the workers there played loud music as they walked around and packaged us all into boxes. That shipping box took me to Sockshop & Shoe Company in downtown Santa Cruz, not too far from the land of Socksmith.
When the store finally opens on that fateful day, all of us at the front of the line wait our turn to be chosen. All the other socks behind us begin placing bets on who would be picked first. Especially those “Men’s Ante Up” Poker Socks, they’re always amping up those bets. While the “Men’s Math Socks” always seem to win. But in the end, everyone is just excited.
Shortly after the store opens, a young man walks up to me and suddenly smiles. The boy says to his friend, “I want these ones; they’ll make me look smarter!”
“Yeah sure, okay,” the boy’s friend says jokingly back.
“No but really, look how fun they are! It’s called the placebo effect, if I feel smarter, I will be smarter!” the boy retorts back.
So the boy places me confidently on the counter. After an exchange between the cashier and the boy, I’m finally being taken to my permanent home!
Once arriving back at the boy’s house, my tag is ripped off and I’m folded before being placed in a drawer labeled “socks.” I loved my tag, I was always so proud of my Socksmith origin and detailed label. I’ll always remember my Socksmith story and where I came from, but this new look is nice too. I can finally be worn!
Once in the drawer labeled “socks,” I’m greeted by a whole new sock family, a more permanent family. Everyone is all different sizes, colors, and designs. But once again, we’re all the same, just looking to be worn and make the boy smile with our good looks.