nacho shoes
Posted on 2008-Feb-27 at 03:28
Monday morning our first client arrived at the salon annoyed and venting. She had just been to the gym and while she was working out someone mistakenly (she hoped) left the building with her shoes. She had a pretty good idea who it was so she didn’t think it would be too much trouble getting them back but we all had a laugh over it and wondered what kind of fool doesn’t know their own shoes.
That afternoon as I was leaving work I slipped my sneakers on and while they felt slightly odd they were the last pair in the foyer so I never considered that they might not be mine. It was my husband who noticed when I arrived home from my walk that day that indeed I had walked a mile (two miles actually) in someone else’s footwear.
“Are you sure they aren’t mine?” I asked him... apparently I am a fool who doesn't know her own shoes either.
“Positive. Yours are brand new and exactly the same as mine, those have purple on them, you would never buy purple shoes and look, “ he pointed inside “there is no dog hair in there.” Mika fur is like a label on everything we own from our bed to our cars to the margarine.
The shoes I wore home were the right brand and even the correct size but (for once) my husband was right, they were not mine.
I called Trixie to have her check to make sure my runners weren’t at her house before I started investigating clients who were potential crooks. She was giggling as she checked by the door. “Nope, the only shoes left here belong to me.” she confirmed.
We started going through the list of Monday’s clients. I called my cousin to see if his MIL or wife had come home with new(er) shoes. He asked them both but neither had even worn sneakers that day. Trixie called her clients from that day and none of them had taken them (or so they say...thieving bitches) and finally I called my former boss at the paper. No, I wasn’t going to take out a missing New Balances ad in the classifieds. I was calling to talk to the receptionist who had been in to see me but she was out for lunch. I explained my soleless situation to Jane and she started laughing. “You’re not going to believe this.” she said. “I was at the elementary school this morning and someone stole Jody Ore’s shoes too.”
What are the odds that three of us would be the victims of mistaken footwear identity in the same day? I told Jane maybe she could do an article about it… I was kidding but seriously it would be more exciting than anything else in the paper.
I have since called everyone else we saw that day to no avail, my brand new balances are gone. I am left with white and purple sneakers that I never would have bought and more than a little trepidation regarding the wearing of my good shoes to work… or anywhere else I might have to remove them. Now I basically have two options if i don't want such a thing to happen again, I can leave my footwear in the car and walk barefoot into the house or I can revert to my kindergarten ways and Sharpie my name into all of them.
I just had a moment of panic as I thought how ironic it would be if somehow I was responsible, that I had taken the wrong runners from somewhere and the whole debacle was my doing. Fortunately I did not remove my sneakers at any point that day other than at work so I am not out of line putting the blame on someone else. It would have been doubly funny if all of the shoe switching was related but it appears they are all isolated incidents. The one thing I am grateful for in all of this is that the shoes I ended up with are at least not stinky… though at this point I am wishing mine were!
That afternoon as I was leaving work I slipped my sneakers on and while they felt slightly odd they were the last pair in the foyer so I never considered that they might not be mine. It was my husband who noticed when I arrived home from my walk that day that indeed I had walked a mile (two miles actually) in someone else’s footwear.
“Are you sure they aren’t mine?” I asked him... apparently I am a fool who doesn't know her own shoes either.
“Positive. Yours are brand new and exactly the same as mine, those have purple on them, you would never buy purple shoes and look, “ he pointed inside “there is no dog hair in there.” Mika fur is like a label on everything we own from our bed to our cars to the margarine.
The shoes I wore home were the right brand and even the correct size but (for once) my husband was right, they were not mine.
I called Trixie to have her check to make sure my runners weren’t at her house before I started investigating clients who were potential crooks. She was giggling as she checked by the door. “Nope, the only shoes left here belong to me.” she confirmed.
We started going through the list of Monday’s clients. I called my cousin to see if his MIL or wife had come home with new(er) shoes. He asked them both but neither had even worn sneakers that day. Trixie called her clients from that day and none of them had taken them (or so they say...thieving bitches) and finally I called my former boss at the paper. No, I wasn’t going to take out a missing New Balances ad in the classifieds. I was calling to talk to the receptionist who had been in to see me but she was out for lunch. I explained my soleless situation to Jane and she started laughing. “You’re not going to believe this.” she said. “I was at the elementary school this morning and someone stole Jody Ore’s shoes too.”
What are the odds that three of us would be the victims of mistaken footwear identity in the same day? I told Jane maybe she could do an article about it… I was kidding but seriously it would be more exciting than anything else in the paper.
I have since called everyone else we saw that day to no avail, my brand new balances are gone. I am left with white and purple sneakers that I never would have bought and more than a little trepidation regarding the wearing of my good shoes to work… or anywhere else I might have to remove them. Now I basically have two options if i don't want such a thing to happen again, I can leave my footwear in the car and walk barefoot into the house or I can revert to my kindergarten ways and Sharpie my name into all of them.
I just had a moment of panic as I thought how ironic it would be if somehow I was responsible, that I had taken the wrong runners from somewhere and the whole debacle was my doing. Fortunately I did not remove my sneakers at any point that day other than at work so I am not out of line putting the blame on someone else. It would have been doubly funny if all of the shoe switching was related but it appears they are all isolated incidents. The one thing I am grateful for in all of this is that the shoes I ended up with are at least not stinky… though at this point I am wishing mine were!
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