Every summer my wife, Michele, tries to convince me to wear flip flops when we go out somewhere, be it to a restaurant, the supermarket, or hardware stores filled with a lot of low, sharp, metal objects. I tend to not be comfortable in flip flops in public. I feel like someone who got seriously lost on his way to the shower. “I went down the hall to grab a towel, made a wrong turn, and found myself in the lobby of an Olive Garden.”
Also, even if it is 97 degrees out, I’m uncomfortable entering a public restroom in anything less than steel-tipped work boots. That is one location where I don’t want my feet to be dressed free and easy. I’d prefer confined and complicated. Granted, I might look odd wearing a t-shirt and shorts with wing tips. However, at least I won’t exit the men’s room worrying that my feet picked up a virus, various bacteria, and the kind of rust usually only found on industrial plumbing.