pronating but that he could help with some custom fit orthotics for only three-hundred American dollars. (That Faulkneresque sentence brought to you by the words "Run" and "On.")
I was thrilled to hear there was a cure and the cure evidently involved my lining his shoes with money so he could line mine with something made of, if price is any indication, moon rocks. I promptly dashed home on my obviously deformed feet to do the foot pronation detection test. I got them wet and stood on a brown paper sack and then looked at the footprints left there and it appears that my feet are the picture perfect examples of perfect middle of the road feet. There's no over arching or flat-footedness indicated. Now the thick-padded running socks may have made it appear to him that I had flat feet, but I suspect the three hundred dollar price tag on them caused his glasses to fog up when he looked at my picture-perfect clod-hoppers so as to mis-diagnose me.
I hate to say it, but I don't think I'll be back to see the old fella. He's great with my neck, but I don't think I trust him with my feet.
Photo Credit: Thanks go to limaoscarjuliet from flickr for the creative commons allowed use of the photo in this post. Great picture!