Posted by: docdenbow | July 14, 2013

Tap Tap Tap Go The Feet

In the past week or so, thanks to the scorching weather I have managed to avoid wearing what you could call *proper* shoes. I’ve spent the last week wearing my Gravis flip flops or my Clarks sandals and have found out one or two things. I have discovered that when unencumbered by socks and shoes my feet barely perspire. For you normal people out there you may not think anything of this, but let me tell you one or two things that may give you an insight into my perspiring feet issues.

A few years ago, on a Sunday when the weather was not unlike the weather we’ve seen over the past few days (bloody hot) I came back into the house from the garden. God alone knows what I had been doing out there, weeding, using the jetwasher who cares? That’s not relevant. Anyway as I was a bit hot and smelly I decided to go and have a shower. I ran up the stairs, for I was still of an age where I could choose whether to walk or run up a flight of stairs, and headed into the bedroom. Once there, I removed all of my clothes ( I prefer to shower naked, I find it much better) admired myself in the full length mirror and headed off to the bathroom to *freshen up.* Grabbing my Vosene and a bar of Pears soap I headed into the cabine de douche, and because I am a real man I turned the water on prior to allowing it to gain any sort of warmth and stepped in. Anyway, before I end up going all Barbara Cartland describing my magnificent body and all that, I’ll cut to the chase and carry on with the bit I’m trying to tell you about.

Right, I’d showered, washed my hair, my pits and my bits and was ready to take on the world once more. I grabbed a t shirt and another pair of shorts (the ones I’d been wearing were in the washing machine about to be drowned into submission) and headed downstairs. I grabbed something to drink and plonked myself down to read the Sunday Times. I had no TV or radio switched on so the room was as silent as a room can be. I was sitting with my legs crossed and I was reading whatever it was that I was reading. Then it started. There was this tap-tap-tap sound.

I couldn’t work out just where the hell it was coming from. Besides it couldn’t be that important, could it? Anyway I sat back down in the same way as before picked up the paper and a paragraph in this tap-tap-tap sound began again. WTF? so I searched everywhere within earshot of where I had been sitting and could not find the source of the tap-tap-tap. I went back to my chair hoping that we didn’t have mice or worse still rats. I picked up the paper again and began to read, and would you know it, tap-tap-bloody-tap!

This time I had decided to sit and listen carefully to isolate the source of the tap-tap-tap. I care put my paper down and decided after a moment or two that the tap-tap-tap was coming from my left, very close and very likely at floor level.

I looked and the newspaper on the floor was wet in a funny kind of way. It was then that I identified the source of the tap-tap-tap. The tap-tap-tap was being made by me, or to be more accurate my right foot.I looked in some wonder at my (very) recently washed right foot. What I saw was new to me for I had never seen ,let alone heard of, the phenomenon that was happening right before my eyes. I watched in awe, it was like watching some hitherto unknown species or even seeing an alien.

There I was sitting cross legged, right leg over left. With me? Good! Okay, you have the picture? Right. Well what was happening was that sweat, and there there is no nice way to say this, was running from my toes and all points in between to my heel and dripping onto the newspaper on the floor. Hence the tat-tap-tap. Me, I thought it was pretty cool, embarrassing in company I guess, but cool nonetheless.


The Offending Foot

Now when I shower I have to finish off by splattering the piggies with cold water to close the pores to delay the inevitable torrent of sweat that will eventually flow from my feet. If I don’t my feet end up so soggy that barefoot I leave footprints. I can’t wear the same pair of shoes two days in a row and really I ought to carry additional socks with me at all times. Foot spray makes no difference whatsover.

Now, you may think that I’m unlucky having this problem, and a problem it certainly is, but there is a plus. You see when it comes to underarm perspiration, well for me it barely happens. I wonder whether that is why I have bugger all in the way of underarm hair? (I am a chap, remember)

If you have any idea of a cure I would be grateful. I’m mid 50s anf it’s ruining my life, not really, but I am open to suggestions.

Ciao For Now Denbow


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