What have you done for the past 10 years? I don’t mean cumulatively, but rather some action you have done at least once a year since 1999.

Eating doesn’t count. Nor does breathing or buying socks. Well, if you have some sort of ritual wherein you buy a new pair of socks each March 27, I’ll count that.

For me, it has been selling shoes. Each year since from 1999 to 2008 I sold at least one pair of shoes to another individual while working at a retail store. That string looks incredibly long now that I write it, but I assure you it feels even longer.

But 2009 should be the end of the road. I stopped working at my last retail gig back in July 2007, but ended up working one day last year in sort of a freelance capacity. Due to my incredible skill–not to mention charm–I couldn’t help but make the most of that one day and make a sale.

We’re a long way from August of ’99, when as a kid about to enter his junior year of high school I signed on to peddle athletic and rugged footwear at an awesome store called Galyan’s. Those of you familiar with Dick’s Sporting Goods will know sort of what the store looked like (Dick’s bought Galyan’s in 2004). But Galyan’s was a much higher-quality store and gave me what ended up being a pretty easy way to extort a lot of money from a lot of people in the Northern Virginia area. I mean, um, to help lots of people by identifying their needs and matching one of our products to fit their budget as well. Yeah.

Then in 2005 it was off to New Balance where the real fun began. And by fun I mean utilizing my master’s degree by selling shoes and finding ways to pass boredom-filled hours in Tysons Corner Center. You’ll have to consult the archives for the real flavor of this time in my life. Stories about or related to my time there definitely dominate the 2006-07 portion of my writing. From a purely content perspective, I should still be working there.

But I digress.

It was upon leaving that job for a TV producing gig in Florida that the following year (2008 for those of you scoring at home) was declared to be “totally SHOE-FREE.” At least, that was according to a Christmas card from one of my friends:

Unfortunately, while visiting my brother in Raleigh, N.C., I got pressed into helping out at a wonderful little store called Raleigh Running Outfitters. It was there that 2008 lost its “SHOE-FREE” status, never to be regained again.

In 2009, I have remained strong. While I have worn many shoes, I have not tried to measure anyone’s feet, lace up their shoes or even offer much footwear-related advice. It’s tough not being intimitely involved in the feet of complete strangers. Or maybe it’s glorious, hard to say really.

Here’s to lasting a few more months without a nametag around my neck or a shoebox in my hand, and finding something more productive to do for the next 10 years.