A lot of people say to me, “Bob, I have this really annoying friend. Annoying, but not so bad that I want to kill him. Is there anything a passive-aggressive person like myself can do about this situation?”

My first instinct is to say, “My friend, you’ve come to the right place. Have you ever considered gifting them a puppy?

I don’t say that, however.

Ever.

Too many variables with a puppy. It could just as easily turn out to be a sweetie pie. And then what? You’re stuck with a friend who showers you with annoying waves of gratitude.

With a revenge puppy, you are hoping for one that grows up with an untrainable mind of its own. A pup with the canine equivalent of Kruger-Dunning. A MAGA dog. One that wants to go right when you want to go left – on walks. One that always wants to walk on the other side of the street. One that smells everything when you are in a hurry to get somewhere.

One that will sit in front of a couch and yip with indignation until you lift it onto the cushions. One that gazes bemusedly at the ball you just rolled toward it. (The look on its face will say, “Idiot.”) One that spurns your affection, as if it were raised among cats. One that barks at a door until you open it, then decides to go out again two minutes later.

How do you find such a gem for your annoying friend?

You don’t. Dogs that are this forthright don’t let on until they are safely in your home and you are well in its clutches, and you’ve purchased way too much puppy gear to send them back.

While it seems such a puppy would be the perfect gift for your annoying friend, it is ill-advised to seek one out. Invariably, your annoying friend will ask you to babysit the dog when he leaves for a three-week vacation. And then what has been accomplished?

Exactly.

No, there are better ways.

I’d like to offer you two of them now.

The best possible revenge gift is a pair – or three pair – of technical socks.

Yes, technical socks. But not just any pair.

You want socks that come with a left and a right. Ideally, there is a tiny “R” or “L” woven into the sock so that you will know when you’ve grabbed the wrong one. And, trust me, your friend will grab the wrong one. Practically every morning.

You see, technical socks don’t just cover your feet. They lovingly grip your feet in various places – like the arch, the toes, the ankle – in an almost mystical way. In theory, you can walk longer, jump higher, run faster, anything short of flying. They do this by the use of variously colored fabrics of varying strengths and elasticity. In a way, the socks mimic your foot’s obviously inferior muscle structure.

These socks are everything your feet are not.

God, in his infinite sense of humor, decided identical left and right feet would be too easy for humankind. So, just as your left foot is different from your right, there is a correct technical sock for each foot.

And in the wee hours of the morning, in the dark, you will get it wrong.

You can be of two minds about this: 1.) Ignore it. This is only fabric. It is not bionic. How “technical” can it really be? Or, the more likely answer 2.) Take the socks off and put them on the correct feet.

And there: Your annoying friend has already started the day with a failure that will hang over his head for the rest of the day.

Success!

Of course, I speak from experience.

While hiking the Wild Atlantic Way in Ireland a few years back, I ran out of socks. Well, I ran out of dry socks. And there they were in a department store amid all the ordinary socks – white anklet technical socks. I recognized their superiority right away because of the “L” and “R” stitched into the appropriate socks.

Nobody goes to the trouble of stitching such a thing into a sock if they don’t mean it.

They carried me through the rest of our hike and I must admit, I think I detected a fresh spring in my step.

I still have them. All three pairs. I’ve even darned the toes of one pair. They aren’t white anymore. Sort of a pink-to-lavender hue because of a poor laundry decision on my part. Yes, I own the decision.

And I still get them on the wrong foot from time to time. I honestly don’t know what it would feel like to go all day with my left technical sock on my right foot and visa versa. I imagine I would be pigeon-toed. Tripping over low objects. Possibly struggle with dyslexia or anastrophe. “Oh Yoda, wrong feet are my socks ensconced.”

It is the revenge gift that keeps on giving.

Similarly, a pair of identical, unmarked earbuds can achieve the same level of revenge.

There is no way of knowing until you stick one in your right ear and a very alluring voice announces “left-a chunnel.”

No, really, that is what mine says: “left-a chunnel, right-a chunnel.” In the sexiest anime warrior princess voice imaginable.

Again, self-inflicted. I bought these for myself.

Anyhow, I rarely get it right. Or left. I mean, correct. 

And I get it: It is a 50-50 chance.

There are solutions – a dot of WhiteOut on the right earbud, for example. 

Wait, was it on the right … or the left? And who uses WhiteOut anymore?

Honestly, I sometimes wonder if a Chinese bro-boy rigged the game, programmed identical earbuds to sense into which ear one is being inserted — and then trigger the voice to indicate it belongs in the opposite ear.

That’s what I would do.

---

Now, just because you’ve stayed with me this far, I’d like to offer a bonus revenge gift.

I saw this shirt today at Tuesday Market, here in San Miguel de Allende, home of some of the greatest clothing bargains and cheapest egg prices in the world.

(That was mean. I didn’t see any eggs. But I bet they would be very cheap compared to … oh, you know where.)

I did not buy the shirt but I was moved by its singularly unapologetic awfulness.

Of course, I thought, “To whom should I gift this shirt?”

And then I thought, “To which public event would I invite them and insist they wear the shirt?”

And there is nobody I dislike that much.

Certainly, you could write a term paper on the historical symbolism running rampant through the fabric — the iconic dessert-modern Welcome sign, the Stardust logo, atomic-age Populuxe aesthetics, Frank Sinatra, palms, neon, green caddies and green olives in martinis, the 1951 Sinatra pop single, horseshoes, dice, cards …

Wait a minute.

Why that song? Why the melancholy lament “I’m a Fool to Want You”? Recorded when he was caught between divorcing Nancy, an implacable Catholic Church, and Ava Gardner?

Gorgeous song, which Sinatra co-wrote. It has been covered by more than 100 artists, including Billie Holiday and Bob Dylan.

But why such a sad and tragic song on such a frivolous shirt?

Also, I asked AI about any symbolism in the two red cards on the shirt — the four of hearts and diamonds. There are 52 to pick from, why these?

Here’s what I got: “In the context of playing cards, seeing ‘two red fours’ could symbolize a focus on stability, balance, and the ‘fire’ element due to the red color, with the number four representing foundation and structure; essentially signifying a need to establish a strong base in a situation or decision, potentially related to passion or energy represented by the red suit.”

Interesting. Hardly a stable time for Frank Sinatra. And yet, an incredibly creative one.

As for Las Vegas, the imagery on the shirt is certainly from the foundational period of go-go post-war mob-and-mythos that enthralled the world for decades.

Ever pass up a bargain at Tuesday market and wish you could go back and get it?

Me, too.

---

---

The lead image was created by an Artificial Intelligence program based on the content of this column.