"It came to me one Sunday afternoon awhile back" said Martin Duffy of the Kingsbridge section of the Bronx "when I finished a load of laundry and started spreading the goddam socks around on my kitchen table, like I've done hundreds of times before"
Mr. Duffy no longer anguishes through that chore because on that day he decided he had enough. "I spent a good 30 minutes separating and matching socks, hunting for the ones that got away and piling up the ones that lost their partner somehow. All those extra socks just sitting there without a match, can't throw em out, that would be a waste so that's about when it hit me. If I had one foot, I wouldn't have to go through this mindless time consuming chore week after week"
He showed me his stump above the right left ankle. I asked him if he performed the amputation himself.
"No! Now that would be stupid. I got my buddy Joe the butcher to do it for me. First we took a bus over to Montefiore hospital and went into the emergency room. He plugged in the Sawzall and put a bunch of plastic around the chairs and what not and in a few seconds it was all over. Quickly got some doctors and nurses to wrap it up and in a few days I was on my way home"
Mr. Duffy has no regrets and seems to be thoroughly enjoying the extra time in his life now that he no longer has to match sox.
"I always wanted to travel" he said, while reclining back in his comfy chair "and now I can watch the travel channel a lot more than I used to. You should see France!"
He was quick to point out a collateral advantage from severing his foot.
"I lost about twelve pounds so I bet my doctor is going to let me come off my diabetes medicine." he said "and hey, while you're up (I wasn't) you wanna grab me a popsicle from the freezer?"