Lost, One Sole

It's true.  I'm now a sole-less wretch, lost and staggering.

My shoe had been in need of repairs for a while, and while at Boston Tea Party, it finally bit the dust (and me).  I'm no longer limping from the incident, but I'm afraid my shoe will never be the same.  And while I swear by Aris Allen shoes, what I'm swearing now (after swearing and hobbling around the hotel for a day) is that I don't have $40 plus shipping to spend on another pair of shoes.  So the hunt begins.

Source one: online shopping.

First stop: dancestore.com.  For the first time ever, I'm displeased to announce that my feet, at a size 8.5, are too small.  If I were a 9.5, my shoes would have been $30, and already ordered, making this a much shorter blog.  However, a size 8.5 is not on sale, and not in my budget.  On to the next site.

Second stop: ebay.  Turns out, my feet aren't the only thing lacking: I don't have the guts for online shopping.  I eyed a few pairs of candidates, but I couldn't go through with it, not without knowing for sure that they'd fit. 

Source two: the real world.

First stop: Target.  Come to find out, the current trend does not involve sneakers.  Those fancy flat slipons with no padding are all the rage.  And while rage is a bit strong to describe my feelings about them, annoyance does just right.  But ho! (No, not you, ma'am.)  What have we here, but several pairs of white canvas sneakers.  And, for the second time in my day/life, I bemoan my not-size-9.5 feet.  Although in this case, being a size 7 would have sufficed as well.

So I'm stil here, without a sole, waiting for some cobbler to come and save the day.  And by cobbler, I don't mean something filled with berries, although that would improve my day as well, come to think of it.  So cobbler or cobbler, or just a shoe that fits, I'm here, signing off.

-m.