This is not a joke: The sneakers that order pizza for you | Lisa Scottoline

Did you hear about the sneakers that order pizza for you?

I’m going to buy a pair.

Or maybe eight; one for every slice.

Or maybe 39,273 — one for every carbohydrate.

I’m not making this up.

I saw it first in a commercial and I actually thought it was a joke.

Because you have to admit, so many commercials are jokes.

For example, the commercials for face creams that make you look younger.

That’s a joke, isn’t it?

The only way a face cream can make you look younger is if you smear it in the eyes of everyone who looks at you.

Presto! How do you like me now? Am I young enough yet?

Then there are commercials for the car, home, or life insurance companies that always pay off.

That’s a total joke.

You could drive your car into your house and lose your life, but none of your three insurance companies would pay off.  They would be pointing fingers at each other while you were in your grave. Your epitaph would read:

TURNS OUT NOBODY WAS ON MY SIDE BUT ME.

And my favorite commercials are the ones for antidepressants, with a voiceover that warns you that the drug can cause mood or behavior changes, anxiety, panic attacks, trouble sleeping, or thoughts of suicide.

Basically, depression.

I can never understand how it’s lawful to market a drug to combat depression that also causes depression.

I can get depressed all by myself.

And when I do, you know what I want?

Shoes that order pizza.

Because it turns out the commercial wasn’t a joke, and Pizza Hut is making a pair of high-top sneakers that order pizza.

The sneakers are called Pie Tops II.

But they should be called Muffin Tops.

You order the pizza by pressing a button in the tongue.

Not your tongue, the shoe’s.

Next year, they’ll put the button in your tongue, so you won’t even have to bend over.

Meanwhile, I wonder what happened to Pie Tops I.

Did they get crazy and order caviar?

The button that orders pizza is on the right shoe.

Although, in my opinion, any shoe that orders pizza is the right shoe.

And, by the way, the left shoe will pause live TV for you, presumably so you can answer the door to get your pizza.

I’m not making this up.

Pizza Hut says the shoe comes in two colors: “red and wheat.”

Guys, I could market that better with my eyes closed.

How about we call the colors “tomato and mozzarella?”

Doesn’t that sound like a delicious shoe?

And if the shoes can order pizza, why should your clothes slack?

Your shirt should be able to order a chocolate cake.

You can put the button over your bellybutton.

This way you can always find it, because if this keeps up, your stomach will be all that shows.

The Pie Top sneakers go on sale any day now, and they’re being marketed for March Madness, the men’s college basketball tournament. So if you love watching college basketball on TV, just let your right shoe order your pizza so you don’t have to raise your arm and hold your phone to your face.

Which is exhausting.

And let your left shoe pause live TV so you don’t have to miss a minute of the game.

I’m trying to remember the last thing I couldn’t miss a minute of.

Literally, nothing comes to mind.

You would think sex, but I hardly remember it anymore, and even then, my thoughts wandered from time to time.

I might’ve glanced at the bedside clock once or twice.

And that was before we had smartphones.

That’s right, I’m admitting in print that smartphones were not invented the last time I had sex.

We only had BlackBerrys.

That’s so embarrassing.

That I had a BlackBerry, I mean.

But cars were invented, and I seem to remember electricity.

Back then, if I’d had a smartphone, forget it.

I would’ve been scrolling away.

I would’ve been shopping online.

I would’ve been buying shoes, even if they didn’t order pizza.

Anything to stay interested.

To get my head in the game, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, to return to point, the idea of pausing live TV with your shoe is that you can return to the couch, start eating right away, and not miss a minute of watching other people exercise.

This would be the American dream.

Wall-to-wall, seamless, 24/7 binge-eating and binge-watching.

I think we’re going to need a bigger couch.

And I bet in the future the people exercising on TV won’t even be real humans.  They’ll be computer-generated, like in a video game, and the fantasy league will be a real fantasy.

And there will be a third button on all of our sneakers, which will summon a robot to open the pizza box, take out a slice, and feed it to you.  The robot will look like whoever you want.

Mine would look like Bradley Cooper.

And there could be a Bradley Cooper robot that would bring you a margarita, too.

And a Bradley Cooper robot that would take you upstairs and tuck you in at night.

Guaranteed, my mind would not wander.

I’m sorry, what was I talking about?

Look for Lisa and Francesca’s new humor collection, “I Need a Lifeguard Everywhere But the Pool,” and Lisa’s new Rosato & DiNunzio novel, “Exposed,” in stores now. Also look for Lisa’s new domestic thriller, “After Anna” coming April 10. lisa@scottoline.com.