After very publically getting stuck in a pair of boots only weeks before, I decided it was time to face my fear. There were plenty of people who wore knee high boots that had calves bigger than mine—it was just a matter of finding that perfect boot.
It happened unexpectedly, but it just seemed so right. I stopped by the mall one evening after work and stumbled upon the deal of a lifetime. A pair of Michael Kors black suede boots. They were beautiful, and what made them even more beautiful was the price tag—they were on sale for almost a third of their original price. Was I dreaming?
After finding a safe place in the corner of the store, I asked the sales associate to bring out my size. It was the moment of truth.
I wanted them to fit more than I had ever in my life wanted anything to fit. More than my high school prom dress, more than my first pair of Sevens and even more than my bras before I went on birth control. And let me tell you, that my friends, is A LOT.
She brought them out and opened the box—but inside the box was only one boot. She explained that the other one was probably just the ‘display’ and scurried off to find it.
While she was tracking down its counterpart, I had a heart-to-heart with its sole mate. Please, I whispered, please fit. I began to slide my foot down and inside feeling something I had never felt before while boot shopping—effortlessness.
It was destiny. It fit perfectly, with calf space to spare. I could even take it off without causing a scene. I walked around the store basking in my success. I had done it! I had found a beautiful pair of boots for a decent price that actually fit!
Or so I thought.
As I sat there, anxiously awaiting her return with the other half of my perfect pair, I began to get nervous. I realized she had been gone for quite a long time.
(Photo from 'Big Fat Rat' via Flickr)
A few minutes later she returned empty handed. “I couldn’t find the other boot anywhere,” she explained unsympathetically. What did she mean she couldn’t find it anywhere? It’s a freaking boot it’s not like it just walked out of the store!
I politely, yet firmly requested that she look again.
I tried not to let myself hyperventilate. She would find it, I would buy it, and we would all live happily ever after. Gosh, the suspense was killing me!
When she once again returned empty handed, I felt the store suddenly get hotter. Her voice trickled off and everything began to spin. This could not be happening.
She apologized and asked if she could assist me with anything else. “No,” I replied with tears in my eyes.
I sat there for a minute stunned. How could the other boot have just disappeared like that? It just didn’t make any sense. My retail wheels began to spin.
The more I thought about it, the more suspicious I became of foul play. Maybe the matching boot wasn’t really lost. Maybe it was a matter of someone hiding it.
Could I have uncovered a shoe room scandal?
As a former retail employee, I knew all the tricks—what was going on sale, when it was going on sale, and more importantly, where to hide the things until payday.
Just to make sure, I recruited a third party to uncover the truth. I watched my unknowing accomplice (the only male I could find working in the women’s shoe department) enter the back room with a watchful eye.
When he came out of the back room empty handed, my heart sank. But my sadness turned to rage when I saw the female sales associate who had helped me before come out behind him—proof she had sabotaged my quest for the missing boot.
But I didn’t leave without a fight. “I hope you enjoy your new boots!” I sarcastically remarked upon exiting the store.
I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.
