I Need My Head Examined

Every day for the past month, I've passed by a billboard on my way home from work that was advertising a very cool pair of Skecher shoes. Ever since I saw them on the billboard, I've been jonesing for those Skechers.  Yes, I'm well aware that teenagers wear Skechers and I'm 42 years old. But the shoes are very cool and I wanted a pair of them. 

Instead of ordering online at Zappos.com, I finally took the time last night to go up to Shoe Carnival, as they are an official Skechers dealer.  I was on my second trip through the entire shopping center parking lot trying to find a parking space when it occurred to me that I was attempting to go to a shoe store on the night before school started.  Let me add that Shoe Carnival is situated in between Target and Value City, all three of which are back-to-school meccas.  What was I thinking?  Evidently, I wasn't thinking at all. 

I finally found a parking spot probably 100 yards from the Dairy Queen, which is in the farthest part of the shopping center parking lot.  I could deal with all of this, because I really wanted those shoes.  I trudged to the store, which was packed. Once inside, I had to dodge tons of shoppers, all who looked disgusted. As I was looking for the Skechers aisle, I wanted to run up to the booth and grab the microphone from the annoying salesman and yell "Why in heaven's name did you wait until the night before school starts to get your kid school shoes? It's not like this was a date they just sprung on you.; 'Oh, by the way, your child starts to school TOMORROW.'"  These people knew months ago when school would start, and damned if they all didn't pick the one night I decide to go shoe shopping.

I finally found the Skechers and rummaged through the boxes till I found THE shoes.  I tried on my usual 8 1/2.  I could hardly get my big toe in the shoe.  I then tried on a 9.  Still no luck.  After trying a 10 and still not being able to get my big foot into them, I put the shoes back on the shelf and quietly left, cursing the  procrastinating parents and Skechers for evidently putting the wrong sizes on their shoes. 

Oh well. I'll just be content to wear my trusty Doc Martens.  Those Skechers weren't that cool any way.