Shoe fly don't bother me

I have another irrational pet peeve. More like an obsessive-compulsive disorder. I can't bear having stuff on the bottom of my shoes. This is not something very unusual when your day is spent walking the streets of NYC, but sometimes it makes me unable to function. Case in point: I was at the gym over the weekend and there was something sticky on one of the pedals of the elliptical machine, which I discovered when the motions made me lift my sneaker. You know that un-sticking sound? After a few minutes I got off and onto another machine, and IT KEPT HAPPENING. Because, of course, now the substance was fully entrenched on the treads of the sole of my shoe. Each step, each squonchy sound, was driving me batty.

I left my sneakers out in the locker room over night and nobody stole them. This morning I made a half-hearted attempt to clean them, no luck. I still don't know what it was.

So I threw them away because I don't think I can wear them again.