Clink, clop, Clink, clop, Clink, clop.
I was walking to my College briskly as it was twenty-seven degrees outside. Burdened down with my workout bag, my briefcase, my purse and my lunch bag, I stopped every once in a while to shift, resettle, then walk again.
Clink, clop, Clink, clop, Clink, clop.
“Crap, I think one of my heels must be worn through to the nail. I’ll need to get a new plastic cap put on next time I’m in town. I only have two pair of black dress shoes I can wear around campus.” I was talking to myself as I neared the building. I stopped again, shifted the load one last time, balanced my bags, grabbed the double doors and entered the building.
CLINK, Clop, CLINK, Clop, CLINK…
“Criminy, shoes. Loud much?” Now I was talking to my shoes.
I got to the elevator, somewhat relieved that I could give my shoes a break. When the elevator door opened, I tried a different way of walking.
Tip, tap, Tip, tap, Tip, tap…
That was better. At least I wasn’t Clinking and Clopping. Stop, shift, balance…open my office door, and…begin my day.
Thirty minutes later I walked down to the office to ask for some room scheduling support for a weekend class I was teaching. Annoyed by my shoe-noise once again, I told myself I’d probably have to shift to my tip-toe quieter mode for the rest of the day and resolved to look at my shoes before I got dressed from now on.
I stopped and talked with a few students on the way back to my office. I stopped in at the cafe and grabbed a cup of coffee. I had probably, by this point, encountered between fifty to one hundred fifty people.
I returned to my office, settled into my work mode and bent down to turn on the power strip to my computer. “Ohhhhhhhh…..” I stared at my feet.
Remember the “only two pair of black dress shoes I had that were suited to walk around campus?” I had one of each on that day.
So, I called my major professor who is now retired and said, “Hey Dave, remember the time you wore two different colored socks into session at the clinic?”
“Oh yeah. Definitely,” he retorted. “You guys didn’t let me live that down until I left the university…or, still haven’t I guess!”
“Well,” I said. “I’m just calling you to let you know I’ve now done basically the same thing.” We talked and laughed for a few minutes. I hung up the phone.
Then I took a photo of them with my cell phone and posted it on Facebook. These highly valuable activities do indeed make up a small margin of my work at campus.
Then, I started getting helpful hints and harassments from my friends. One comment actually helped a great deal. She basically said, “Heck – I’d use that as an excuse to get new shoes on my lunch hour.”
Ha! Great idea!
So I did.
I actually LEFT campus, which I never do, WENT shopping, which I never do, and bought FUN SHOES…which I never do!
Check them out!
So then I was not only feeling a little better about the noise I made when walking down the hall…
(silence, silence…silence, silence…silence, silence…ahhhhh)
But I was also loving my new shoes. Actually, I kept wondering if they looked a little too much like house shoes. But I didn’t care.
They’re NOT house shoes, right??
So then I started thinking back to the situation at the shoe store. I’m looking at these shoes, the salesman comes up and I say, “So, these are regular shoes, right? I mean, they’re not house shoes, right? They’re just cute little every day shoes…right?” I think my voice trailed off a bit with that last question.
“Oh, no. Well, I don’t think so. No…they’re regular shoes. Yeah. Yeah, I’m pretty sure they’re regular shoes. They’re not in the house shoes section. So, they’re regular every day shoes.”
I was in a hurry and just wanted to hear any kind of validating message so as soon as the FIRST “yeah” was out of his mouth, I had already started a beeline toward the cash register. I stood there, waiting on him to finish his sentence and follow me up to the front so I could pay for my shoes.
Snapping out of my quizzical recreating-the-moment mode, I looked at them again. “Yeah…just, every day shoes.” As I said this to myself I felt like I was lying.
I still don’t know if they’re really every day shoes or house shoes.
So, later that night I come in from work. It’s late. I’m sharing my story with Hubby, and I kick off my warm comfy shoes. But then Tonks runs up to them and begins sniffing them too intensely. I think, “She’s way too interested in that furry stuff. I’ll put them out of her reach.”
So I did. I sat them up on the couch, on top of my briefcase, distracted her with another toy and watched a bit of TV.
That night I slept soundly because I knew I was going to wear something fun to work the next day. I was dreaming of this hounds tooth wool print skirt, an over-sized cable knit turtleneck, black tights and my new comfy shoes. Or house shoes…whatever. I was going to dress in a trendy fashion for once.
The next morning I woke up, put on my outfit, tread into the kitchen in my tights and quickly went for my shoes. The tile was cold and so were my feet. But when I reached the sofa, my shoes were gone. What??
Where were my new shoes??
Thinking I had perhaps forgotten where I put them, I walked back into the bedroom. I saw Tonks and casually said, “Tonks? Where are my new shoes?”
Okay, that was weird. Tonks was crouching down on her bed, then she rolled over and was looking at me sideways. Sweet Holy Moses, that dog looked guilty about something.
“I wonder what the heck has gotten into her?” I thought…. then, “Ohhhhh.”
“Tonks! Did you eat my shoes?” I really wanted to know and I walked over to her, as if she were going to begin speaking any minute.
Geez. Dogs. She didn’t say a thing, but continued to avoid eye contact at all costs.
I ran back into the living room. Looked under the couch. Ran to my office, the extra bedroom, the kitchen…and in the DINING room, found one shoe. Ha!
I picked it up and immediately threw it back down. It was soaking wet, the fur was matted, the ribbon pulled out and the beads on the ribbon were gone.
Yep, mission accomplished. At least one shoe had been found, but it was – indeed – chewed up by the dog.
Well, crud! I guess I was back to my black shoes again. But this time, at least they matched.
Three days later, the second shoe appeared in the middle of the living room floor. Fully intact. I have no idea where that dog had been hiding my shoe, nor why she decided to keep it in good condition.
So now, a week later, I’m sitting in my armchair, typing this post, wearing BOTH my new furry shoes. Or house shoes…whatever. But now THEY don’t match either!
So, is this the point where a valid urban dictionary entry would involve, *”SML?”
*SML=story of my life