The hobbling

I'm tired of being trapped on stairs behind women who are unable to traverse inclines because of their poor choice of footwear -- the flip-flop.

My ire at the so-called "thong sandal" has been well-documented in these pages. There is nothing less-attuned to an urban life rife with bacteria, offal, fecal matter, rivers and bogs of urine, more offal, steel-toe boots, and crumbling World Trade Center towers than the ugly, impractical flip-flop.

It's bad enough that you're forcing me to live in the same world as your calloused and arthritic-looking feet. If your ass can't even walk down the street or mount staircases because your balance and footing is unsound, then we have a serious issue.

Likewise -- I don't necessarily like our current president, but I think the office of Chief Executive deserves a little more veneration than a bunch of women lacrosse players tromping through the Oval Office in flip-flops during their meeting with Gee-Dub.