The probable, and most boring, explanation is that just having purchased new footwear, a decision was made to ditch the old, rather than bring home.
But such an explanation would not provide distraction time, time to allow the mind to wander, to escape for some chill-out time.
Maybe enough was enough, and walking barefoot was the first step in rebelling against the norms and expectation of society – that quote eventually wore down the mental block providing resistance, the time had arrived when the life would be lived, not chosen.
Maybe, a dare or a bet to act out the Mikel Murfi role had become less fun as sobriety returned in the early hours.
Maybe some escapade the night before resulted in lost or damaged shoes. These boots borrowed, (or retrieved from a recycle bin), until the shoe shop was reached.
This morning’s tweet from the Irish Aesthete demanded that the rambles through my mind become fully formed in the shape of this blog post.