This is the kind of thing that only happens in poorly written novels. The kind of thing that you read and then say out loud, “Oh come on, that’s so ridiculous! That lends no credibility or believability to the story whatsoever!” Or at least that’s what I say, maybe you don’t talk to yourself when you read.

Over the weekend I was looking for new walking shoes. A friend/coworker and I have decided to get off our lazy asses and move once in awhile. We work at a college and have free access to the indoor track, yet neither of us was taking advantage of that, instead opting to go home and eat ice cream in front of the tv right after work. That’s just me, I guess I shouldn’t speak for my friend/coworker.

Unavoidable events prevented us from walking the first couple weeks we tried it, but finally, last week, we walked after work. A whole 50 minutes of non-stop walking. It was great, fun even! Except holy crap my feet hurt when we were done.

I’ve had the same tennis shoes for the last seven years, shoes that I’ve loved and have put to good use. Only I hadn’t realized that the interior of each shoe was wearing away so much that the back of my feet were rubbing against plastic the whole 50 minutes, which of course makes for blistery, bloody heels. Which makes for me wishing I had gone home to watch tv and eat ice cream instead of walking.

Time for new shoes.

I spent two shopping trips looking for shoes I could live with. The only problem is that people like Nike and New Balance and Reebok have absolutely no idea what I can live with. They design shoes like these, where white is the couleur du jour, occassionally accented with pink or teal. Or they get fancy with your feet, creating wild designs that nobody should ever be caught wearing. All I wanted was something relatively simple, understated, and please God not white. White shoes are fine if that’s what you like, please don’t think I’m judging your footwear, they’re just not for me. Instead I really wanted, needed even, something primarily grey.

Don’t be fooled by what you see on those websites. The stores around here only carry a few select styles, ALL of which are primarily white. Finally, on the second day, I found something I could live with. They were Dr. Scholl’s, which, in name alone made me feel 80 years old, and they also looked a little too middle-aged Jazzercise for me. But they were inexpensive and tolerable, so I brought them home.

However, I wasn’t completely satisfied. So later that night, while shopping with Brad, I wandered over to the footwear section of Target where I happened to notice a pair of grey tennis shoes that I liked even better than the ones I had.

Oh they’re probably much more than I want to spend, I thought. Wait, they’re only $27.99, I can afford that!

Oh but they probably don’t even have my size. Eights are suprisingly difficult to find, I pondered. But what’s this? A size eight, right here in front of me!

Well they probably won’t be as comfortable as the Dr. Scholl’s shoes because come on, this is Dr. Scholl we’re talking about, I said to myself. Well oh my, they fit like a dream, and indeed, it’s as if Dr. Scholl made them himself!

Obviously this was my perfect shoe, yet I wasn’t quite convinced I should go through the trouble of returning the other pair. Weren’t those just as good? Were these shoes really worth it? I needed a sign, something to confirm that these shoes were divinely made just for me.

Then I glanced at the box, and there in black in white, staring back at me, was my answer.
Shoe size: 8
Shoe style: Shannon

The shoes that had practically called my name really had practically call my name. Har har. Also, I swapped out the grey laces in the first pair for the white laces in these. Now, they’re just about perfect. They get the official walk test today after work. I hope they pass.