Gold Bond

Sometimes my feet itch. It’s because I have to wear shoes all day, at this thing called a job. It sucks. I’d rather be doing something else, but the Nordic Warrior Queen says I have to work, so off I go.

I’ve tried everything to stop the itch – sprays, ointments, powders, new shoes, expensive liners – but nothing works. By the end of the day, my feet itch so bad I’m going crazy, and people look at me funny like I’m doing something under the table when all I’m really doing is trying to scratch my feet.

Then my daughter gave me this great advice. Try some Gold-Bond Medicated Foot Powder, Dad. That’s what we use in the Navy, it works great.

I figured if it’s good enough for the military, it’s good enough for a software consultant. So before going on my last business trip, I ran up to the local Walgreen’s and picked some up.

That morning before heading to the airport, I sprinkled my feet liberally with the Gold Bond. It had a nice minty smell to it: I even poured some in my socks. For good measure, I then sprayed everything with a little tough-acting Tinactin. There was no way my feet were going to itch today.

I was passing through security when I noticed my feet were feeling a little warm, but I figured it was just the spring weather in Arizona. It wasn’t until I was all settled in on my flight to Denver when I realized I was in trouble.

My feet were burning. By the time the airplane started to taxi, I was nearly in tears. The guy next to me was looking at me sideways; I was squirming so much, he must have feared I had explosive diarrhea.

Finally I couldn’t take it anymore. I tore off my shoes and socks and ran down the aisle to the lavatory, treading white footprints down the length of the airplane. I had to wash my feet NOW.

Just short of the lavatory, the stewardess tried to stop me. “Sir, we’re taxiing now, you have to get back in your seat.”

I pleaded with her. “Please, my feet are on fire, just give me a minute.”

Unfortunately, the only thing the guy sitting next to the toilet knew was some guy was wrestling with the stewardess, mumbling about fire. He panicked.

“Fire! There’s a fire!” The next thing I knew, the cabin was filled with screaming passengers. The plane suddenly jerked to a stop and someone pulled the emergency hatch. As I closed the bathroom door, I could hear the sound of the exit ramp inflating and passengers leaping from the airplane. 

I didn’t care. I quickly rinsed the Gold Bond off my burning feet: heaven. I went back to my seat, put my shoes on, and took a nap until they figured everything out. I was tired after all the excitement.

Maybe I should have read the directions. Gold Bond contains menthol, which I guess should be used in moderation, something I struggle with at times. Now I’m back to scratching my feet under the table, at least until the day I don’t have to work anymore.

I don’t care if people look at me funny.