I can't believe I forgot my socks by Mortis

Ok so a strange start to a story I admit but it will all become apparent socks it seems are important, very important so important in fact life its self might just depend on them. Well it all started one day in early autumn it was getting cold the trees were showing off there red and bronze leaves and I was well-well I was tired and bored and skint. So I did what any self respecting nobody with nothing would do and that was of course nothing, I just sat around and continued to be tired bored and skint and thought nothing of it to be perfectly honest after all it was nearly Christmas no point going adventuring when there was all that lonely self pity I so enjoyed wallowing in, the high light of which was receiving a Christmas card from British gas addressed to “the occupier”.

Anyway I seem to be digressing and I don’t want to bore you, oh no not yet anyway for now I want to share my story of that fateful day the day I forgot my socks, now on most days this isn’t really a problem all that jargon at the top of the page was a load of well crap really, socks as you are probably well aware are not fundamental to life at all, in fact they are just a pleasant way of keeping our feet comfortable and shoes smelling nice but on this particular day I wish I had not forgotten my socks.

It all started when a so called friend of mine called to ask if I fancied doing a job for him, he was busy and needed a load of things delivered to a company in London somewhere, I vaguely remember trying to argue I was busy doing nothing and really rather wouldn’t but before I knew it I was stuck on the M25 looking at the endless commuter car park in front of me. Now commuting always seemed crazy to me thousands of cars all costing the same of a small house sat in long ques using enough fuel to pay for nice extensions on the small houses. Where did all the money come from nobody was actually doing anything other than sitting around in commuter traffic.

Again I am digressing from the digress, too much even for me, so where was I? Ahh yes socks, well there is a little known fact about socks that will probably surprise you. Now I’m not a particularly religious person, in-fact I hardly had any convictions regarding religion until that day… you know the day

I was talking about being sat on the Motorway in the traffic. Yes right so, what happen was this I finally got to where I wanted to go, some small dusty backward industrial unit on the out skirts of Essex, well I say Essex it had really just been swallowed up by the ever expanding hole that is London, I think someone estimated that by the year 3000 Glasgow will qualify for London weighting and this wouldn’t surprise me but qualify and actually receive are as we all know two incomprehensibly different things. Well back to Essex and the industrial unit, now because of the commuter car park I encountered I was around five hours late for my delivery, which at this stage I still didn’t know what it was I was delivering so I ambled around to the front of the building hoping to find some sort of reception. I didn’t what I did find was a small door so as I was the delivery man I though well just a little knock and a peek in would be fine, I was not prepared for what I saw..

It was huge, like some super dooper huge industrial tumble dryer.. but it had a face a real living face and it was rather angry looking, it looked at me and growled one word, which to this day still bothers me and is as you can probably tell the point of this story, the word was SOCKS.

SOCKS, it was said in such a way I wasn’t so much scared as terrified, I turned to run but saw the door had been closed behind me by a burly looking vacuum cleaner and I was being ushered toward the giant dryer by some force I cannot explain, I found my self on my knees in front of the menacing domestic appliance then all fell quiet, a small fat man appeared from behind the machine, he was dressed in white and looked every inch the mad scientist, “ah delivery from MP I take it?” was all he said I remember stammering some sort of response about not wanting to die and he gave me a strange look and said “Oh him, don’t be scared of him, hes just the god of the domestic appliances of the world, he’s really quite tame just pop a sock into his drum as an offering and you’ll hardly see he’s there.”
“A sock?” I said
“Yes man a sock, didn’t you know that’s all he requires as an offering? Well you obviously don’t do much of your own washing now do you? If you did you would know that every time you do a full load the dryer eats a sock! Well that’s their offering to the god here, so be a good boy and pop one in and we can get unloaded.”
“But I’m not wearing any socks!” I half screamed now feeling like terror was a distant memory and have been elevated to a new level of fear not in the language as anyone feeling it had obviously perished a millisecond later.
“Hmm now that is a problem, we can probably come to an agreement mind how about your arms? Do you want them?”
“MY ARMS?” I shouted feeling even more colour drain from my skin.
“Blimey taking this all very seriously now aren’t we? Its only a few arms, I mean that’s nothing compared to the wrath of an angry god now is it? If you’d like to just chop them off over there and pop them in the drum we can all go about our business.”

Now this had become too much for me so even though there was still the rather nasty looking vacuum cleaner to deal with I leapt up off the floor and bolted for the door, I reached it just in time and grabbed for the handle only to find me open it at the precise same moment as my so called friend Leo opened it from the other end he came in and thrust a nice clean pair of socks into my hand and shouted for me to make the offering, confused scared and really quite ready for a beer I walked back over to the dryer and deposited my newly acquired pair of socks into the machine.

Now this all happened to me last week and even recalling it now it doesn’t seem real, however I assure you it was, Leo made numerous apologies and after remembering where he had sent me suddenly remembered that I might not have worn any socks and then came to my rescue, I learned after a few days later that he was however a high priest of the order of the lonely sock, a new movement to avenge the sock left behind after its life partner had been eaten, and I was sent as a test to see how far it would all go…

Any way that’s the end of my story, and I’d just like you to think about it next time you leave the house with no socks on, it just might save you a lot of hassle to pop back in and slip a pair on…