An Open Letter to the females of New York City

Ladies, I want to first say that I completely understand your plight. Fashion is a bitch-ever elusive, often unflattering and rarely comfortable. So when flip-flops became acceptable footwear beyond the beach and outside of the dorm room shower, many of you rejoiced. Black flip flops with black skirts, red flip flops with multi-color peasant skirts and white flip flops with all manner of mini skirts became ubiquitous on the sidewalks of New York. Fine. You are aware, of course, that the only thing separating your foot from the communal treadway/trash can/toilet we like to call a sidewalk is a half-inch of rubber. In normal, pleasant summer conditions this is acceptable and I've even shuffled all the way to the Duane Reade in my own pink, hand-me-down Old Navy pair of flip flops.
HOWEVER, it is raining today. All day today. This is not one of those New England 5-minute weather rule rains, this is a veritable monsoon brought on by a weather system so formidable they had to give it a name. And there is simply nothing grosser than walking behind you and your squelchy feet getting wetter and dirtier with every crosswalk.
Please, for my sake if not your own, put on some some freakin' wellies to keep your now-skanky toes out of the puddles and out of my sight. You can thank me later.