Well, I'm home early.

You see, nobody showed up to the play tonight. This is the first time I've ever been in a play to which no audience showed up. I should have seen this coming, only two people showed up last Saturday. Today was our first day of rain out here in I don't know how long, so the five or six people who were thinking about coming probably just said "Fuck it."

Which is what we, the cast, said when nobody showed up. "Fuck it, we're going home. You don't want to show up to watch the play? Then we're not going to perform it."

We're rebels like that.

Speaking of bare feet, let's talk about the two people who did up last Saturday.

Now if you (and someone with you) were the only two people to show up to a live performance, would you sit in the front row? Okay, not a fair question, the house at this theater only has three rows. In any case they did sit in the front row, which we can deal with because we're fucking actors, we can take it.

I actually spend the entire first scene sitting in the audience itself, then enter from the audience in scene 2. Did I just blow your mind? I like to think I blow everyone's mind with my entrance, but I think they can spot me a mile away. I'm just too damn good looking to be a regular audience member. Plus I have a leather briefcase with a bottle of wine inside it.

So I do my bit in scene 2 and we all leave the stage in the blackout, and do the scene change for scene 3. Lights come up and lo and behold! what do I see but a big bare foot staring me right in the face, attached to the man who makes up 50% of our audience that night. He just kicked off his sandals in the blackout and made himself at home. Crossed his legs even, so the foot was sticking right out there on stage.

It's worth noting here that scene 3 is played almost right on top of the front row, literally inches away. This foot, this bare foot, is seriously infringing on our personal space in a most unwelcome way. It doesn't stink or anything, but still.

I realized right then and there exactly why I hate sandals in polite company. On the beach, on the boardwalk, down by the sea, wear what you want or nothing at all, I'm all good with that. But in adult society these things have no place. Why? Because the only reason a sane adult would wear sandals in the first place is because he plans on taking them off the first opportunity he gets.

Don't look at me like that, you know what I'm saying is true.

It's not that I dislike feet all that much, but really people, these are not the best looking part of our bodies. These things are designed to hold hundreds of pounds on a constant basis through rigorous physical activity for decades. Putting sandals on your feet is like proudly dressing up a furniture dolly with a pretty little bow and ribbon and then wondering why people are looking at you funny.

Keep your feet in your shoes people, it's where they belong. No, you do not have beautiful feet. Anyone who's told you that simply means that they're beautiful in relation to all the other ugly feet they've seen, and that ain't saying much. If you really want to proudly show off a part of your anatomy, let's see some breasts.