It took me about 3 years to wear out my old pair of shoes,
but about a month ago it seemed time to get a new pair. I liked my old shoes,
except for one thing – they have a little “loop tag” on the heel of each shoe.
I never use the tab, and I’m not positive what’s it’s there for. I wear only “loafer-style”
shoes – no shoe strings or velcro straps – so it might be to help you pull up
your shoe over your heel. Whatever the reason, I don’t use the tabs, and I don’t
like them.
When my partner, Beth, drove me to the shoe store in
downtown Belfast, Maine, I told her I didn’t want any shoes with “tabs” on
them. When I got to the shoe store (Colburn’s Shoe Store – the oldest shoe
store in America – and one of the few that gives you personal service)… I
checked out all the shoes and picked out the ones without “tabs”.
The sales clerk helped me try them on, but I didn’t really
like any of them. None of them fit that well, but mostly, I didn’t like the
colors they came in. I asked “How come you don’t have any slate colored shoes?”
They replied they had some in the back, brought out a pair, and I tried them
on. They fit like a molded glove. I said, “I’ll take these”, at which time Beth
said, “Why are you buying them?” I told her it was because I liked them. She
nodded.
All went well until last Monday, and here is where this
story gets embarrassing for me.
Monday is my bowling night, and our team was the last team
to finish. I packed away my bowling balls, and bowling shoes. When I approached
the “street shoe” rack I exclaimed, “Where are my shoes?” There was only one
pair of shoes left, and they looked a lot like my shoes, but they had “tabs” on
the heel, so I knew they weren’t mine.
Someone thought they knew who took my shoes because he had
shoes that looked a lot like mine. He had left already, and they couldn’t reach
him on the phone, but he bowled in a Tuesday night league, so he would be back
the next night.
Meanwhile, how do I get home? I bought a pair of those “over-slippers”
that you put on your bowling shoes when you leave the bowling area to go get
food, or to use the rest room. I wore my bowling shoes home, with my special “slippers”,
and resolved to call the next night and find out who had my shoes.
Well, the “Tuesday bowler” didn’t have my shoes… in fact his
shoes really looked nothing like mine. Since there is a Team Captain’s meeting
coming up next Monday, I suggested we ask each Captain to poll their team
members and see who had my shoes. The proprietor agreed.
When Wednesday rolled around, Beth’s brother arrived for a
week long stay and in talking about “what’s new”. I mentioned my lost shoes. I
mentioned the “tabs”, and Beth said, “You’re new shoes HAVE tabs… I saw them.”
That’s why she asked me why I was buying them... I had said I didn’t want “tabs”,
yet I was buying shoes with “tabs”. I had to admit she could be right, so the
next day we stopped by the bowling alley and sure enough, Beth was correct.
(AGAIN! … LOL)
The shoes fit just as perfectly as they did in the shoe
store, so I knew they really were mine. Then I began the endless apologizing to
everyone who had been part of this “drama”. Fortunately, nobody took a picture
of me with all that egg on my face.
When I mentioned the outcome of the story to a friend of
mine, she wisely replied, “That’s why we need a partner to grow old with”… and
she is so correct.
As we age, the body breaks down, and our memory fades, and
we forget things, or fail to notice ordinary stuff. Hopefully it will not fade
enough to become Alzheimer’s, but along the “aging” journey, the path is made
gentler if you have a partner to be a “safety” net. We can’t stop the aging
process, but we can make the journey more pleasant.
So this year, I have added to my Christmas Wish List…. May
everyone have a partner, or special person to grow old with.
Meanwhile, if your spouse, partner, or significant other,
ever asks you, “How much do you love me?,
you can always reply, “Well, I know what your shoes look like.”
