It was a dark and stormy night, and my cheaply made, foreign shoes were already soaked through, the poor quality leather bubbling, and my toes sloshing in the soaked memory foam exterior. If only I had chosen instead to wear quality shoes from yesteryear, shoes made to last a life time and face the elements, I would not now be miserable and foolish. My thoughts drifted to the golden age of quality men's shoes, whose high-quality leather would have laughed at the storm as a mere drizzle, and retain throughout the elegance I so desperately craved. My tears joined the rain as I whispered, "Damn you, Rockport, damn you to Hell."