Flip-Flops top List of Things-to-Avoid-Because-
They're-Deadly
By Michael Owen
Opinions Writer

There is no elevator music when you are waiting on hold for J. Crew customer service. You can either wait in silence, or make up your own tunes, until an agent is available to assist you. Today I am calling about an extremely pressing issue. I must warn J. Crew that their flip-flops, two pairs of which I bought for $6.99 each in August, pose a grave hazard to the human race. Also, I want free stuff, or stock.

ME: Dum de dum. De dum.

J CREW:

ME: Dum de dum de dumde.

J CREW:

At this point, I am looking out my window and pondering the rainstorm that threatens to make California sink into the Pacific, or possibly, if it goes on long enough, the Atlantic. It has been raining for a day-and-a-half, and although weather.com promises that tomorrow will be “Mostly Sunny,” I am skeptical until a review of the 600-mile Doppler Radar thoughtfully reassures me. At least tomorrow, when it is mostly sunny, my life will not be in as much jeopardy, setting aside the ever-present risk of earthquake.

ME: La de da.

J CREW: Hello, this is Evelyn. How may I help you today?

ME: Hi Evelyn, this is Michael Owen. I’m calling to warn you that one of your products is extremely dangerous.

J CREW: I’m sorry?

ME: I purchased two pairs of flip-flops, or “rubber thongs,” from your store in Salt Lake City. They were $6.99. But they’ve imperiled my very life.

J CREW:

ME:

J CREW: How’s that?

ME: Well, whenever I walk over a wet surface—be it concrete, tile or wood—I realize my flip-flops have no traction whatsoever. Sometimes I realize this in time to reduce my stride and keep from inadvertently falling on my ass, but even then I have to spend my entire day shuffling across campus at, like, one mile per hour.

J CREW: I’m sorry to hear that, sir.

ME: No, it’s alright. What concerns me more is that some unsuspecting, loyal J. Crew customer might walk outside on a rainy day, not having worn his flip-flops before and so having no idea what to expect, and fall on his head. Has anyone reported slipping?

J CREW: Not that I’m aware of, Mr. Owen. Have you had such an incident?

ME: Well, as I said, I’m usually pretty careful about walking slowly when it’s wet out, so I’ve avoided flip-flop-related head injury, although I have a nasty eyebrow scar from Harwood Halloween. But I feel like your product should come with a warning that, when it is raining, the wearer must assume a sluggish pace or risk death.

J CREW: I think many of our customers wear their flip-flops primarily in fair weather, Mr. Owen. Can you wear something else on rainy days?

ME: Of course. But this is Southern California, and we don’t have as many occasions to wear, say, your Suede Hacking Jacket with Quartered Pockets in almond as we do to wear flip-flops. They are practically an all-weather item, and as college students most of us are economically bound to get as much out of our purchases as possible, with the exception of alcohol, which is inherently a loss, but that is a separate issue.

J CREW: I’m glad your purchase has mostly worked well for you, sir, but I guess I’ll have to recommend that you wear something else when it’s wet outside.

ME: What about puddles?

J CREW:

J CREW: What do you mean?

ME: Well, say it’s a perfectly sunny day by all appearances, but there is an insidious sprinkler watering the sidewalk just outside the door of my residence hall. And what if I don’t see the water gathering on the pavement, because I am too busy looking at the perfectly sunny day? That could be disastrous.

J CREW: I advise you to exercise caution, Mr. Owen.

ME: Nonetheless, I would like stock options. That seems fair.

J CREW:

At this point, our conversation ends. Evelyn refers me to her supervisor, who offers me 10 percent off my next purchase at J. Crew. I accept, although the only things I ever buy at J. Crew are $6.99 flip flops—which I obviously am not self-destructive enough to purchase again—because everything else is made for Square People. I have decided, having been frustrated in my (justified) bid to assume ownership of the company, to absorb the $14.90 loss, wear my flip-flops on those days which strike me as fitting and, as Evelyn suggested, exercise caution. Let this be a warning to all of you, readers. The faceless entity behind that glossy catalog which endeavors to seduce you with its aloof wool pants is flagrantly unconcerned about your death, which is inevitable should you wear the aloof wool pants. I am only offering advice; like Evelyn, I don’t want to overstep my bounds and say something that might undermine high-quality customer service. I say only this: flip-flop buyers, look out.