The Sock Vigilante

I make a game of mailing people my used socks. I’m kind of a vigilante, I think. When I observe someone being a jerk to someone else (not just me), I find out where they live, and mail them a summer’s day hiking sock. Fits just fine in an envelope, and it delivers a little piece of justice.

Of course, people have to understand why I’m mailing socks out. That I’m not just doing it at random. They have to know that if they receive a sock, it’s karma, and they should feel shame for their jerkass ways.

So when the news started covering stories of people getting smelly socks in the mail, I wrote in anonymously to say what I sent the socks in for. I outlined everyone’s individual deed which earned them the socks. Soon after, none of my victims told the press about their socks–they didn’t want me publicizing their shittiness. But I wrote about them anyway. I basically had my own bulletin, my own soap box. Notes from a Sock Vigilante.

To keep things interesting, I’d keep some of my most rank socks in tupperware storage, rating them on a scale of rankness. The worse the person behaved, the worse the socks they’d get. You had big-scorers, and you’d have people who deserved only mildly disgusting socks. I had to work hard to ensure my feet stank to a good enough degree–I didn’t want to cheat and just dunk my socks in urine or something.

Some years after I stopped my vigilante behaviour, I thought about what a weird habit it was. Just never occurred to me back then. I thought I was doing justice. I guess I did more than most people do when they observe everyday villains. Still. Every time I take my shoes off after a run, the memories come back.

I wondered where all my socks were now.



Day 196’s three random prompt categories were, “Socks,” “Game design,” and, “Things you find in the mail.”

I mean, we all wonder where all our socks went once in a while. The answer, invariably, is stuck in the dryer.

– H.

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