My socks are in Alexandria, VA

While I am in New York, NY.

Why did this happen?

Century 21. That’s why it happened.

Of all the places that closed, with or without provocation from COVID-19, Century 21 was my biggest loss.

I went through a few layers of shock and grief when, in 2020, the announcement came. The layers succeeded each other rather quickly. At first, it was a generalized, “Oh no no no no!” Followed by looking through my closets and touching each occupant which had come from Century 21 over the many years I’ve depended upon it.

The penultimate layer, to be followed by an overall mourning, was, “What the fuck am I going to do about SOCKS!?!” Because Century 21 was the only place where I bought underwear, sleepwear and socks. Two reasons. Their prices were unbeatable and the selection in the sock department was everything I desired in socks. Those racks of socks were a little paradise.

Did I ever tell you about the time an ex criticized my socks? “Socks have to be white,” he said. It was not the first time I knew we would never work out, but it was significant. My socks are never white.

Here is a picture of two of my socks:

Over the years since 2020, my socks have been holding themselves together with bare threads, especially around the heel part. Finally, a few days ago, I Googled “women’s socks NYC,” hoping I could pin down a nice little sock shop to visit in person. No shop appeared. What appeared were several online sock “stores.”

You know how stringently I avoid buying anything on line. But I caved. Roaming through a catalogue, I chose a bunch of adequately patterned socks. They do not live up to the wildness and dense coloration (see above photo) of Century 21’s socks but, still…

The sock company promised to keep me GPS-ed as to the minute-by-minute location of my new socks. I really didn’t need to be zoomed in on the travels of my socks, as long as they were boxed and not traveling on somebody else’s feet.

Nevertheless, I received that message a few days ago, when my socks were in Alexandria, Virginia, presumably inching up 95 to NYC.

Update: I just received a notice that my socks have arrived. They are downstairs, waiting for me.

Pettier than this little report I will never get.

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