Saturday, February 20, 2010

Kicking & Screaming

Out of work at the unexpectedly pleasant, civilized hour of 6PM last night, I thought I'd use the extra time before my dinner date with the Hubs to do a little shopping. Since I was walking home along 34th street through Herald Square, the following should not have been shocking. Yet I couldn't quite suppress the urge to unabashedly stare and audibly grunt.

Disregarding my better judgment, a cute shoe caught my eye and I headed into a store through a hoard of large, slow moving tourists (luckily store widows are not located in the middle of intersections or I would surely be run over by a bus one of these days.) Once I finally fought my way as politely as possible past the gaggle, I was able to more closely admire the foot ornament that had persuaded me to risk being mistaken for a tourist by shopping in this area at rush hour. I scanned the bustling space for a harried salesperson who might get me a size 7, but before I could locate such assistance my gaze landed on a 6'2 woman (I think) with calves the size of tree trunks desperately jamming one of them into a cognac leather riding boot. A shopping companion (in some unintelligible dialect) seemed to be encouraging the linebacker to keep persevering at her task. I looked at the poor, overstuffed boot and felt sympathy for the pressure building along its seams like the water below deck on the Titanic before it went under. Just as the top half of the tourist's tree trunk inched into the supple leather, the boot could not longer withstand the struggle and it let out a scream as it violently capitulated along its side gusset. I dropped the slim pump I was holding and could not order my eyes to return to normal size. Several other shoppers similarly spun in their tracks to view the source of the loud 'rip' that rang through the store. The tourist with the ham hocks was more angry than embarrassed, and with a swift kick of her hoof, she threw the mangled boot across the floor.

I had seen enough carnage for one evening and decided I didn't need a new pair of shoes after all. For now, anyway.


  1. I can picture the scene, classic

  2. Always avoiding the neighborhood around there, hate tourists. Funny story.


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