Adventure is the gift that keeps on giving. And in this case is still giving, because I get to share this story with you. Yes, I have more coffee related things to share later, but I want to take this moment to discuss the importance of Adventure as a gift.
I have a friend named Joe. This is his actual name, not an internet pseudonym to protect his innocence as he has none. In the last eight years of my life, Joe has been a central figure in many hilarious misadventures mainly of the “Everybody point and laugh, children” nature. I have often said that a healthy lack of shame will take you far in this world; Joe is poised to go to orbit I suspect.
You know the old saying, “You just like to push people’s buttons”? Joe’s brain presents me with such a large console of buttons, knobs, levers, and even toggles that it’s hard to not trip something. It’s like stepping up to a pipe organ to play. Joe knows this about me and thus treats me with a due sense of skepticism and paranoia.
One day, I presented Joe with a pair of stripey socks similar to these.
Joe: “What’s this?”
Me: “These are your Adventure Socks.”
Joe (skeptical face engaged, begins looking for needles): “What the fuck are Adventure Socks?”
Me: “These are the socks you wear when you are going on an adventure. Someday, someone will ask, “Do you have your Adventure Socks?” If you do, then the adventure begins.”
Joe (looking worried): “Uh huh…”
Me: “So, be sure to carry those on you at all times, okay? You never know when you’ll need them.”
This pushed all the correct paranoia inducing buttons. All this was in conspiracy to do something nice for the boy as he’d been having a bit of a rough time. One day, about a month later, I told our general group of friends to clear their schedules for the day and meet me at Bocci Cellar in Santa Cruz for a nice meal and some bocci ball. I similarly told his girlfriend to keep Joe occupied for the day and that I’d be calling at some point to let her know where we were getting together for dinner, but not to tell Joe.
So, I called her cell from a blocked number, told her not to say my name after she picked up and act concerned as we talked. After a little bit I told her to say, “Uh huh…Joe it’s for you.” and hand the phone over to him.
Me (ominous voiced): “Do you have your Adventure Socks?”
Joe (a bit shouty): “Yes! I have been carrying these goddamn things around in my bag for weeks you fucker!”
Me: “Good. Hand the phone back to Stef now.”
I told Stef where the restaurant was and they headed our way. Joe entered looking very twitchy. We had a lovely meal, played several rounds of bocci, and had many free cocktails courtesy of the owner/cook that appreciated customers that liked strong cocktails/were willing to experiment. At the end of the evening, Joe cornered me and asked…
Joe: “So, why did I need Adventure Socks?”
Me: “You always need Adventure Socks.”
Joe: “No, specifically, this evening why did I need them?”
Me: “To put you into such a paranoid state that you’d ignore other problems that’ve been bothering you and so that this evening would feel really great. Also, messing with you is fun.”
Joe: “I hate you.”
It’s been almost 7 years now. He still keeps them close at hand and definitely takes his Adventure Socks with him when he travels. Because you never know when you’re going to get the call…
EDITORIAL: My Lovely Assistant’s feet personally endorse the wares of Sock Dreams and Mr. R. Stevens of DIESEL SWEETIES fame. She is a firm believer in having interesting socks on AT ALL TIMES, just in case you have to remove your shoes and entertain the TSA.