Match-making for socks

Finding one’s perfect mate is a torturous lifelong quest for what could be a single moment of happiness.

For many it has become an obsession as people lurk in bars and single’s clubs. For others it has been reduced to good old fashioned match-making where grandma tries to set you up "with a nice boy."

But for my socks, it has been hopeless.

Maybe my socks are sluty socks, thinking that if they ditch their partner I’ll just buy them a newer model with better elastic. Maybe they’re predator socks who like to off their partners or hide them inside the couch cushions (no kidding I once found about 30 socks inside my couch). Or more likely they are just adventurous and like to take long walks to other locals where they can live in solitude in someone else’s house.

I know I’ve found my share of illegal immigrant socks.

But in an effort to make my more respectable socks happy-- these are the ones left behind, the child socks, the ones too pretty for their own good and the religious socks--- I’ve decided to use my blog to find them mates.

I’ll sock it to you with some good old fashioned personal ads.

SW tube sock still fluffy on the inside seeks mate for long walks across the tile and occasional tumbles on the spin cycle. Must not go too far up the calf as this is unattractive. Down to earth and slightly slouchy.

DB dress sock only worn at weddings and job interviews seeks a true black mate. Navy blue need not apply. Must be thin and not overly religious (I don’t want someone who is "holy").

Do you like a little bling? Well I’ve got a gold toe for you. If you can cover up an ankle, I’d be happy to play twister with you in the sock drawer. Do you prefer to fold over or turn inside out in a little ball? No preferences here.

Slightly snagged knee high seeks anyone who won’t fall down on the job. Prefer sandal foot, but I’m not above settling for a reinforced toe.

White crew sock- skinny ribs on the inside fat on the outside, fold over ankle length seeks like kind for everyday wear. Durability a plus. No soiled toes or heels please. Warning: monogamous relationship is highly unlikely. You’ll look like everyone else in the sock drawer, and we like to swap partners. Some even live on the wild side, teaming up with mates that only slightly match my stature and ribbing.

Barbie’s got her Ken. Why out get fluffy in my Kenmore? The 20-minute extra care is the bomb. I’m a fuzzy blue slipper sock with all my tread in tack.

Let’s separate her toes and make them curl. Stripy Christmas toe sock with jiggle bells seeks anyone who will keep him out of the Goodwill bag.

Must love dogs. Holy, stained sock seeks mate for some tug-o-war fun.

Mate left me to become a sock monkey. Brown is O.K., but please no red toes (you just aren’t trust worthy.)

Child-sized socks, various colors seek anyone who remotely resembles them from a distance of 50 feet.

One Tinkerbelle sock lost her shadow-- now seeks Peter Pan, or Wendy for complete collection. Hooks need not apply.

Let’s get frisky in my Whirlpool. Must enjoy long dirty hikes in stinky boots. No quitters. Stains OK. No one will ever see you.

If interested in meeting, go to the local thrift store and ask for unwanted matchless socks. I’m sure someone (not me, I’d never do that) has donated them.

(previously published in the Paradise Post By BS-- or shall I say me)