shoe shopping … sorta’

It was the new pair of loafers on another’s feet that dictated my shopping quest at the beginning of our second day of shopping.
The previous day, I had vaguely remembered that I needed to purchase something for my wardrobe, but once I saw the book store I never thought about clothes again. Instead I bought books – lots of books. Books for me, books for others, books to give, books to keep, books to share – but no clothes and for sure, no shoes.
One snazzy pair of loafers reminded me. So, I resolved – for one day – to join the other women and be clothes-minded – especially since we had gathered in a place with three outlet malls with lots and lots of shoe shops. I assumed that with all the shoe stores available, I would find the style I preferred, in the color I wanted and, of course, in the size I wear.
I should be so lucky – most stores do not carry my narrow shoe size. Long ago I quit checking out cute shoes in a variety of colors. I learned to cut to the chase, find a clerk and ask, “Do you carry my size?”
Most don’t, but serendipitous moments do occur when I find a perfect fit at an affordable price.
With all those shoe shops, surely a fortuitous moment awaited me – somewhere. So I set out that morning, confident that I would return with shoes – and not books – that day.
I wore out a lot of shoe leather walking the sidewalks, going in and out of the shops, asking sales clerks my question of the day, “Do you carry my size?”
I anticipated the “No, I’m sorry we don’t,” but I remained hopeful that I would hear at least one “yes!” In the fifth or sixth store, in search of a clerk, I saw a style I really liked … only to be told they did not carry my size.
Like a leaky balloon, my hopeful, shoe-shopping energy dissipated.
Empty hands hanging heavily at my side, I watched other shoppers leave shops laden with shoes, slacks and shirts. I plastered on a smile and admired their purchases.
I shambled along feeling sorry for myself, tired of hearing the soul souring, “No, we don’t carry your size.”
Disappointed and discouraged, I said “Phooey to shoes” and headed for the nearest book store.
As I perused novels, considered books on tape and glanced through books filled with excellent photo-journalism, the day’s quest faded into oblivion.
Instead of luxuriating in the midst of the smell of new shoe leather, I breathed deeply the fragrance of fresh ink.
If I could not look down and smile at new shoes, I could peek inside promising biographies.
Since I would not be taking home a box of shoe leather, I chose a box filled with audio book cassette tapes.
I gathered up my favorite styles of books and left to drown my day’s defeat in carefully polished tomes. Shoe shopping would just have to wait for another day.
(Joan Hershberger is a reporter at the News-Times.)


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