It's just about fall
y'all and when glancing down at my toes while sitting on the toilet (TMI), I noticed
that I've let my little piggies go. I've slacked in the polishing and toe
grooming a bit.
At the beginning of
spring/summer season we're so excited to break out the sandals. We want to make
sure the toes are glammin' and jammin' for the world to see. (Flashback – check out my spring post: “Don’t Pull My Toes”).
So, here we are at the
end of summer and my toe glammin' days have become somewhat lazy.
My shoe shopping
desires have switched from wanting slinky sandals to maybe a pair of boots.
Last summer when I was
on the search for a new pair of sandals, I realized a lot of time can be spent
in the shoe section. It's a lot of work trying to find the perfect style, right
color, and the best heel height. After you find them, then for God sake's they'd better be in your shoe size.
Walking up and down
the rows and rows of shoes displayed on their little shoe stage, you can easily
do about 12 laps around just making sure you didn't overlook any winning style.
After rummaging and seeking, I finally see it there - in all its glory! It's perched on its little pedestal shouting "here I am, here I am." "I'm the perfect shoe!"
I noticed another shoe
crazed lady on the other end of the aisle eyeballing the
same perched shoe. Suddenly, in a blink of an eye, it felt like and old western scene.
We were standing face to face on either end of a shoe scattered aisle waiting for fate to unravel. In that moment leading up to things getting unhinged, I was staring down the heel of a 6 inch Stiletto to use for possible combat reinforcement. She was looking at me and I was looking at her.
She's clearly a size 8 and each persistent glare winced towards the perfect shoes and then shrewdly back to where our eyes locked. Without saying a word, I knew it was time to put this wrangler down.
same perched shoe. Suddenly, in a blink of an eye, it felt like and old western scene.
We were standing face to face on either end of a shoe scattered aisle waiting for fate to unravel. In that moment leading up to things getting unhinged, I was staring down the heel of a 6 inch Stiletto to use for possible combat reinforcement. She was looking at me and I was looking at her.
She's clearly a size 8 and each persistent glare winced towards the perfect shoes and then shrewdly back to where our eyes locked. Without saying a word, I knew it was time to put this wrangler down.
Conjuring up my best Clint
Eastwood sneer, then with a tip of my cowboy hat and a sinister tobacco
spit into the Croc Clog section, she's gotta be asking herself one question. "Do I feel lucky?" "Well, do ya, hussy?"
In gunslinger
fashion, I’m quick to draw that armored Stiletto and like a shot I'm all over the "perfect shoes"
branding my territory. I'll be damned if she's going to get the last
freakin' box on the shelf. Don't fail me now Clint! I just made 12 laps
around this damn section of shoes and those sandals are going home with ME.
I grabbed the last box
of size 8, turned on my spurs, leaped on my horse and rode off into the
sunset.
Yeah, it happened just
like that and if you're a woman that's done any kind of shoe shopping, you know
it
could happen.
However, my story
doesn't end there.
Once I got home, I
couldn't wait to pull out my new-fangled sandals and show them off.
I know the excitement
may be silly, but getting a new pair of shoes was a great way to start the
summer.
I put those babies on
and started walking and whistling to the tune of Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah Zip-A-Dee-Ay
my, oh my, what a wonderful day. But, my Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah moment was
quickly snuffed. When making my first step and stride I noticed an obnoxious FART sound.
I stopped then started
again. Yep, there it was again! It was the suction sound of my downward step
and then the release of the unmistakable fart noise with the upward
motion.
Seriously, What The Hell! This can't be...I fought
gunslinger “Clint” style for these
shoes and now I own a pair of FART SHOES!
No matter how I walked
and tried to break those suckers in, the farting wouldn't stop. I had to admit
to myself that my perfect pair of shoes had to be returned to the shoe ranch.

Sorry Croc lovers, but that style just doesn't work well with my cowboy hat!
I ended up getting a
different pair of NON-breaking-wind summer sandals and all normalcy returned for
the rest of season.
With fall quickly approaching, it won’t be
long that sandals will be a distant memory and the new season of fall styles hit the shelves. So, I'm thinking it's time to go shopping for a pair of sexy
boots.
What do you think? How
about I saddle up the horse, put on my duster and cowboy hat, and we gallop on
over to DSW.
Let's ride Buckaroos!
Do ya feel lucky?
Don’t worry we'll
avoid the farting shoe section. OH…and
the Crocs!
Put your smile on,
Well you gave me a good laugh! I love the analogy, and the video clip of a young Clint, thanks!
ReplyDeleteSo glad you enjoyed! :)
DeleteThis was such a good laugh! I think we've all been there at least once in our lives! I hope you find a new "noiseless" kind!
ReplyDeleteThanks Rena! Happy it gave you a chuckle and yes I did find the noiseless kind. Thanks for visiting :)
DeleteThanks for the chuckles. I think I returned those same sandals.
ReplyDeleteOh that's funny Denise! See...they should have they're own section. Thanks for commenting!
DeleteHi Laurie, in between shoe and sandal shopping I thought you might like to participate in an award I've nominated you for: the Blogger Recognition Award if you'd like to participate - the info is on my post here: http://www.crestingthehill.com.au/2015/09/creating-circle-of-love-with-blogger.html#.VgJxgMuqqko
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