Wednesday, January 7, 2015

Boo Hoo Hoo Report: The Tiny Pink Sock Thing

By: Ben Johnson

Depicted: current location of a tiny pink sock thing

Last night I spent over an hour looking in the snow for a tiny pink sock thing. It was nine degrees outside, and it was snowing, and I was convinced for a time that somehow it would be possible for me to find a single tiny pink sock thing. It’s my dog’s tiny pink sock thing. You put them on the dog’s feet and the dog’s feet don’t get too cold and they can just walk like a normal dog and poop outside. One of those. My dog had ditched one of these tiny pink sock things on a previous walk with my girlfriend, and since nobody asked, I decided to look for it. Somewhere in the park. On or near the hill. Nine degrees outside and snowing.

I thought I might be able to track my dog’s prior movements by tapping into some magic ancestral hillbilly tracking ability, and then find the tiny pink sock thing that way. Nope. I mean, yes, I did kind of sort of loosely track my dog’s movements, but did not find any tiny pink sock thing. Then I tried to go methodical, zigzagging back and forth across the hill like a search party or the police people whose job it is to dredge lakes looking for dead bodies. I went vertical then horizontal.

It was nine degrees outside. And snowing.

45 minutes into my search, about halfway down the hill, zigzagging horizontally, I realized I am an idiot. Yes, it took that long. I am an idiot, I am not going to find this tiny pink sock thing. I do not need to find this tiny pink sock thing, nobody else needs me to find this tiny pink sock thing, and the only reason I am still out here looking for this tiny pink sock thing is because it would be kind of cool if I found the tiny pink sock thing and went “you mean THIS tiny pink sock thing” to my girlfriend, who would then pause to admire me as deeply and profoundly as I, by dint of my exceptional abilities exemplified by tiny pink sock thing retrieval, so clearly deserve. I was an idiot freezing to death on a hill for no reason other than to prove how smart and capable he is at a task which essentially does not exist, in other words. I gave it about another fifteen minutes before heading back empty handed.

I would venture to guess that a vast majority of my inner thoughts have something to do with this process, including the following:

“All I have to do is figure out which paw prints are my dog’s paw prints, and then follow those paw prints until I see the tiny pink sock thing.”

“Okay. I think… I think those are her paw prints. Yep. Bingo. Boy am I smart.”

“So she gets to here, and then I don’t know what.”

“There are a lot of other paw prints and people prints.”

“Just follow everything that might be the paw prints.”

“These are for sure not them, but just to be sure…”

“Hmm, I bet if I tried it THIS way I could find the tiny pink sock thing.”

“Tiny pink sock thing, la la la. Tiny pink sock thing, la la la.”

“NOW PRESENTING-G-G… BEN JOHNSON-N-N… FINDER-R-R… OF THE TINY PINK SOCK THING!!!!”

“Goddamn where’s the damn tiny pink sock thing?!”

“Goddamn nine degrees out here, that’s sure not helping.”

“I might have to change my approach to finding this tiny pink sock thing.”

“I might not find this tiny pink sock thing.”

“I don’t NEED to find it, but it would be COOL if I found it.”

“Don’t change plans, you’ve got a good plan here, stick to the plan. Be methodical and get it right.”

“Goddamn stupid tiny pink sock thing. Always relying on me to find it from being somewhere.”

“You know what? Fuck my girlfriend and fuck my dog for losing this goddamn fucking tiny pink sock thing that it is clearly very important for me to be finding right now! I hate this! I hate how I’m always the one to get saddled with shit like this! Nobody loves me and nobody understands me. Life is pain.”

“HEY, TEXT MESSAGE VIBRATING IN MY POCKET, LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE, CAN’T YOU SEE I’M BUSY LOOKING FOR A TINY PINK SOCK THING?!”

“Okay okay okay. I can do this. I can find this. It can be done and I can do it.”

“Holy shit wait. What the fuck am I doing? WHAT THE FUCK AM I CURRENTLY DOING?”

“IDIOT.”

“Well, just… I guess just finish up the current plan and then go home without the tiny pink sock thing, dummy. You might as well, you’ve been out here for like 45 minutes already.”

“There is a lot of ice on my mustache because it’s nine degrees.”

“Christ am I ever stupid.”

“Go home, dummy.”

“You’re not smart or cool or good or anything. You’re out here looking for something you don’t need to find just to prove you’re good at finding it. It’s like you’re doing this incredibly stupid and pointless thing for SELFISH reasons. You’re actually being an asshole right now. Stop. Just be like a regular person who is not incredible at finding tiny pink sock things. JUST BE REGULAR NOT FINDING A SOCK THING GUY. Be it, live it, accept it, and get the fuck off of this freezing cold hill and back into your regular dumb life where you belong.”

“Okay but just 15 more minutes.”

“Tiny pink sock thing, la la la. Tiny pink sock thing, la la la.”

So yeah. If you see me and I look distracted or I seem like an asshole, just know it has nothing whatsoever to do with you. I’m just out in the world, being an idiot, getting way too intense about wanting to find a fucking tiny pink sock thing of some kind. The good news is the more often I do this, the less likely I am to insist on being some kind of incredible sock thing finder, which is a relief. I am not incredible in any way. I'm just a regular dirteating loser like the rest of humanity.

Also, even though my dog is down one sock thing, she does at least have a hooded sweater with reindeer antlers on it, the hood of which covers her little head and causes her to alternately barge into things and freak out about an antler hood being on her head. So it all worked out pretty good.



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