The other day, I got a flier from a local department store advertising their big sale. The flier told me that if I used my store charge card, I could even save an extra 25% on anything I buy on Friday. Yippie! All week long, I've been looking forward to this afternoon, knowing that I was going to hit the big sale and finally find a pair of boots. Last year at the end of the season, I attempted to find a pair of boots on clearance, but I didn't like the ones left in my size and I loved the ones not available in my size.Buying a pair of boots did not sound like a difficult venture this time - considering that it's the beginning of the season and everything should be available in my size. As CH can attest, I've already had the good fortune to find many pairs of shoes that fit. Finding a pair of boots should be a breeze - especially at the prices being advertised less 25%, right? Well...
After browsing the other departments (a girl always has to look at her new clothing options), I found my way to the shoe department where 6 or 7 employees were busily scampering about while about 15 customers attempted to find just the right shoe or boot in those quickly dwindling moments before the schools dismissed for the day. I kid you not - I think every customer there was under a time crunch and was a mother of elementary school aged children.
You wouldn't think that a ratio of 6-7:15 would be
bad. It actually sounds pretty great, right? Well, for some reason, there was much flutter of activity but few customers able to find someone to help. I'm not sure what to make of that. Once I finally did catch the eye of The Lady in the Sweater, I was able to explain what I was looking for. Then, I waited....and waited....and waited. I honestly thought that maybe Lady in the Sweater went on break and forgot about me. Just as I was about to try to find someone else to help me, Lady in the Sweater appeared with my boots. While trying them on, I noticed that Lady in the Sweater had about 7-8 customers on her radar, while two other salespeople stood and talked at the sale rack and two others were Behind the Cash Register Only people. This brought the effective ratio down to 2-3:15. Hmmmm....The boots were too tight in the toe, which was no big deal because I could move up a 1/2 size. But the depressing thing was that there wasn't enough boot to make it all the way around my leg as I zipped it. This is a creative way to say that my legs are too fat for run-of-the-mill, on-sale boots at a national department store. I really didn't think I'd have to face weight issues while trying on boots.
After I extricated my toes from potential boots #2, Lady in the Sweater was nowhere to be seen. I decided to ask Talker at the Sales Rack #1 for a larger size. She asked, "Isn't Lady in the Sweater helping you? She should be around sometime soon." Then she actually walked away! I caught Talker at the Sales Rack #2 (who was no longer talking with #1 but was now standing and staring blankly into the mayhem) and asked her for help. After another long wait (where are these people keeping their stock of boots?!), Talker #2 arrived with larger sizes. Toe space was still a problem. Then Lady in the Sweater reappeared and asked how I was doing. I explained my issue and she suggested a pair of boots that were 3 times (there's that number again!) the price of the first boots. I replied, "Umm...no. I need to stay more in this price range." She happily sauntered off in search of some suitable, bigger toe area boots.
She actually came back fairly quickly this time. I loved the boots she chose and they fit great in the toe area. I still had the fat leg issue, but out of pride I refused to admit it and bought the damn boots. Which are brown, not black like I'd hoped. But as Cash Register Only Lady #1 was ringing up my purchase, Cash Register Only Lady #2 said, "The brown ones are always so hard to find - they disappear off the shelves quickly. You're lucky!"
I think I need to begin a regular work out routine so I can experience my luck by actually fitting into my new, hard earned boots. My fabulous friend Shannon told me today that she just received a list of excuses not to work out from her daughter's cross country coach. I told her I need a copy so I can convict myself as the Excuse Queen of Exercise.
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