Shoe Shopping

Shopping is something I do not enjoy.  Grocery shopping is okay because I get food from it, even though my roommates still have to encourage and prod me to go.  Clothes shopping is a not okay but can be over quickly.  Shoe shopping is utterly the worst.  There is no contest on how depressing shoe shopping can and will be.

As my sister starts telling me that my shoes are too ratty or as I realize that I really at some point have to get boots for the winter, I start to mentally prepare myself for the fact that I must go shoe shopping.  I put it off for a few days, and then weeks, and maybe a few months.  And then I set a day that I absolutely have to go to the store by.  And then that day passes.  I must go.  But I don't want to.

Finally the day arises that I have enough courage to take on the daunting task.  I look up multiple shoe stores in the area and decide on going to the store that will most likely carry my size and the type of shoe first, so I don't have to go to more than one store if possible.  I head to the store.

As I walk up to the store, I know they won't have what I am looking for.  My mood starts depressing before making it inside.  However, I must do this.  I am a grown woman, or so I am told, and must face this.  Bravely.  I mean, let's think about this.  What kind of woman doesn't love shoes?  What kind of woman doesn't love shopping for accessories such as these?  This girl.  But I enter the store because I know I have to.

I try to keep my small chunk of hope as I walk toward the type of shoes that I need.  Luckily, there are seven options for the shoe type.  I find the one that I love the best.  And the largest size they have is 10.  Okay, there are six more options.  I go to the next best option.  Largest size is 9.  And then, the hope fades but tries to hold on because I need this.  I need new shoes.  I look through all the good options to no avail.  And then, the ugliest, most frivolous, most out of my price range has my size: the dreaded 11.  I try them on just because.  I know I'm not going to get them because they are the most impractical things I have ever laid eyes on.  Well, not the most.  I see lots of impractical stuff all the time.

So, I go to the next store.  I head to the section that is my size.  It's just a bunch of ugly old lady shoes.  And I already get made fun of for my grandma swimsuit, so I don't purchase anything.  I check the men's section though.  By the way, men's shoes are more comfortable than women's shoes.  Sometimes I am tempted to just buy men's shoes only.  I will have the cutest shoes at church.

The next store.  Nothing.

The next store.  I end up with a size 12 in the type of shoe I needed 8 months ago because the size 11 is just a little smaller for this brand.

The next store still doesn't have my size.  So, my hope has finally died.  My face no longer shines any light of happiness.  And I hold back the tears that threaten to flow.  (Just kidding, it's just one tear.)  I leave the store in misery.  I look miserable.  People tell me to smile.  And I resent them.  I'm done.  I want no part of this anymore.

And so it is that I stick with my nasty pair of $6 shoes that my sister tells me I need to, have to toss.

No thank you, I'd rather not go through that again.  But I know I'll have to in about six months.