I’m on a speaking assignment in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, and while here I hope to be fitted for a new pair of shoes at the SAS store. I like SAS because their shoes are very comfortable and every size comes in wide. But my last experience has left me with cold feet.
When I was here a year ago, the saleswoman persuaded me to buy a pair of shoes that had Velcro straps across the front. I tried them on and they felt wonderful. “Are they stylish?” I asked. “Oh, yes,” she said, “very stylish. Everyone wears them.”
So, I thought, why knot?
I purchased them and, back home, modeled them for my daughter, Grace. She took one look and burst out laughing. I was a little offended and asked what was so funny. She said my shoes were for old people.
“Not just old people,” I said. “The saleswoman said they were very stylish.”
“They’re stylish if you live in a nursing home,” Grace replied, giggling some more.
I took umbrage at that and decided to wear them anyway, as they were quite expensive.
A few weeks later I was speaking at a luncheon in another state. The room was filled with people, and right in the front row was a very elderly woman—she must have been a hundred. She was so old I thought she might die during my address. About halfway through my message, I looked down at her feet. Her shoes were exactly like mine. I was so dumbfounded I lost my place and suffered an awkward pause in my remarks. For a few moments I was a lost sole. Then I regained my footing and pressed on.
I’m not sure if others noticed my breakdown (I’ve not had the nerve to watch the footage); but since then I’ve only worn my Velcro shoes on special occasions, like when I’m visiting the nursing home. Anyway, I’m getting a new pair tomorrow. This time I’m on a shoestring budget and hope to put the best foot forward.
I’m thinking about high tops.