Just a Pair of Sneakers, my ass!

I barely know where to begin this post…

I’m sorry I didn’t write yesterday. I was traveling… Yup, it happened. I was purchased. I BELONG TO SOMEONE!

In all my date-night excitement the eve prior (more on this later, I will say this though- Zombies, like WTF? For reals!), I totally forgot Monday was a holiday- President’s Day. & you know what that means- Big. Sales. Its interesting, whenever everyone else has off for a holiday, we work the hardest. Anyhoo -an additional 10% off all clearance. Because really, who can’t get enough of being worth even less. To add insult to injury, our rack was moved into center stage. Like, right into the middle of aisle. Customers had to walk around us if they wanted to approach the shoe department. Check it out, folks, shoes no one wants! Cast them a glance as you hurry past to the far more desirable pairs!

Are you picturing it so far? I’m trying to sleep in, exhausted from staying up super late and here I am, positioned right out in the open- the size & price side of my box facing the aisle, amid a dozen other shoes. Though I am the only athletic shoe. The only 9. One of only a few other Ladies’. I couldn’t possibly stick out more. Mortifying.

The store was packed too. I don’t know if it was cabin fever from the weekend or what, but really, there hadn’t been crowds like it since before Christmas. And kids! so many little kids. If you don’t already know this, allow me to inform you, they love to touch everything. Everything. So my box was continuously being rattled. A tap here, a rub there. All the while, I know its not someone looking to see what’s inside. My brain does anyway, but my heart, it’s in complete denial. So, each time I get jostled, it thinks that maybe, just maybe, it will be someone lifting my cover, gently removing me and carefully trying me on. Nope. It’s slightly broken each time and by the end of the rush, I am done. Done.

Which brings us to 7:30 at night. It’s a half an hour until close of business and it can not pass quickly enough. No one is coming into those doors looking to buy a pair of deeply discounted running shoes.

SHE SAID “Can we just go? They aren’t going to have anything here. & certainly not in our price point.”

HE SAID “Just look. Who knows. We’re just looking anyway, or were you planning to buy them tonight?”

SHE SAID “No. I just wanted to look, see what’s available. and get us out of the house a little.”

HE LAUGHS “Yeah, I was starting to get a little nuts all cooped up.”

SHE LAUGHS “Starting?”

I can tell that he’s already moved on, having heard his footsteps head on over to my old shelf, where the full price, this seasons’ shoes are displayed. Sans boxes, one at a time, so that sales people must engage and retrieve the sizes as needed. Because they are just that desirable. Who me? Bitter? Ha!

She hasn’t yet. I can feel her presence, must be reading boxes. Clearance is rough in that if you are not the perfect size as searched it just isn’t going to happen. All of a sudden, my box top is whisked off and my tissue paper parted. I actually hear an intake of breath. There is quite a bit of bustle as she settled us both down on a bench and rooted about her giant purse for what turns out to be a clean pair of underwear. Seriously. No store provided peds for my new friend, she had a pair of panties with her, for the express purpose of trying on shoes. The best part- they have an image of a blond girl (very similar to herself) TRYING ON SHOES with “Shoe Gal” written underneath. For real, I just might’ve fallen in love right there.

I have to say, the fit is fan-effin-tastic. She must agree, because she was walking all over the department, alternatively bouncing on the balls of her feet and her heels. Just as she stopped at the mirror, lifting the edge of her jeans so that we can both really see each other, he popped back over.

HE SAYS “Yes. Very cute and I have to say, very you. But there is no way those are in the budget. You said so yourself, just looking”

She merely switches sides and we check each other out from this new angle.

HE ASKS “Are you listening to me? At all?”

In reply, she lifts the box and holds it so that he can read my beyond embarrassing pricing for himself.

HE SAYS “There is no way that those are $30.”
SHE SAYS, with a huge smile, “You’re right, they’re not. $29.99, plus 10% off.”

I don’t know these two from Adam. However, even I know now that I am going to be heading home with them.

HE SAYS “Well, if you’re getting them, let’s go, they close in about 5 minutes”

The rest was mostly a blur. There was a hug involved, I know that. I definitely heard an “I love you” too. Then, I was taken off, placed back in my box- very carefully, I might add, and carried over to the register. All that usually happens there took place- the beeps and exchange of papers before I am slipped into a bag and heading out the door with my new family. There isn’t even time for proper goodbyes, but I can hear my friends yelling and clapping, which makes me sad, for about a minute. She is swinging the bag happily during the short walk through the parking lot and just as I am placed into the trunk of a car I catch one last exchange between the two of them…

SHE SAYS “Can you believe it? Less than $30, and they’re like, perfect. I swear, it has to be fate, I didn’t intend on buying anything tonight. I didn’t even want to look in that store. I’m telling you, fate.”
& then HE SAYS, with love, “You do realize it’s just a pair of sneakers, right?”

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