Boots For A "Real" Woman

So, I've been challenged by one said Tenor from Texas to stop being so "darn serious" in my blogs and blog a bit of "the hilarity of my diva life." I hate to disappoint you mon petit "Romeo", but I live a "complex", "dramatic", "deep", "intellectual" life . . . . . . Aaaa! who am I kidding I've got a bit of " hilarity" happening too.
Dan, I dedicate this to you,
for all the moments of "hilarity" that you’ve blessed me with over the past year.
Enjoy!
Diva kisses. mmmmmmwa!

My New Boots

(a true story by a "real" woman)

So a couple of weeks ago I decided to go boot shopping. I needed a new pair of winter boots this year as my old ones are rather worn. (not to mention that they so aren't working with my fertility clinic "professional" attire.)

Now, I've been blessed with what I like to refer to as tree trunk calves. My calves are . . . well to put it bluntly, large. Over time I've learned to love and accept the thickness of my "inverted bowling pin" legs. The way I see it is that they are part of my instrument, divas need all the support we can get to hit those ultra high notes. And look at trees, they've got the large trunks for support, but they also are radiant with delicate limbs and graceful beauty on the top. I'm willing to compromise :)

That being said, boot shopping has never been fun for me. I remember so many winters of disappointment after numerous attempts of zipping up and failing to squeeze my calves into those stylish winter boots clearly not designed for the "real" woman. I've always had to settle for short boots designed for grandma "cankle".

Seeing that it's 2005 I was thinking that perhaps the boot people have caught up with the rest of the fashion world. Maybe they had finally heard the voice of the "real" woman and responded by making boots for sausage calves. So I decided that the only way to save time and energy was to go into the stores, confess that I have large calves and bluntly ask the sales people if they have any long boots designed for the "real" woman.

My first stop was a trendy little shoe store called Transit. I walked in and had a look around, looking only at the pairs of boots that looked like they'd fit my "trunks". Not too soon after, a pushy shoe sales guy stood next to me and with his "shoe salesman" smile and started to put on the "I need you to buy shoes from me cause I gotta meet my quota" charm. I looked at him and immediately began the "real" woman rant: " don't they make boots for real women?" "Why?" "Not all women have legs that can snap in half like twigs you know!!"
The guy looked at me, smiled and tried the "hit on the sad, insecure girl with big calves to make her feel better" shoe sales technique. (It's amazing what those shoe people will do for a sale.)
So Shoe guy said in the most sincere way he could muster, "Oh you're beautiful. Look at you. You don't have big calves. No way." In my head I was thinking, 'oh puh-lease, You haven't even seen the meatiness of my calves yet. Enough with the charm. Just find me some wide legged boots so that we can both get on with our days.'

He started showing me boots that according to him would "definitely" fit. Being me, not having the heart to burst shoe guy's bubble, I smiled back, laughed and told him to bring out the boots to try on. (Of course I told him to bring out size 9 instead of my usual size 7, strategically thinking that surely the upper part of the boot will be larger too, just like the foot part.)

Before he went to the back to get the boots, he stopped suddenly, looked at me and asked, and I quote: " hey yo, what's up with that thingy on your necklace, what's it mean?." I explained to him that it's a Jesus fish, a symbol of Christianity, that I am a Christian. "cool", he said. And waltzed to the back.

Lately evangelism has been at the forefront of my mind, so as I was sitting on the bench waiting for shoe guy to come back with the boots, I found myself thinking, 'perhaps this is a divine moment. What if he asks more about my fish, my Jesus, my church? Maybe this was an opportunity for some real dialogue.' So I prepared myself to share the good news of the gospel.

The now "seeking" shoe guy came back with a pair of black leather long boots. "Here try these first.” he said. I looked at the boots and I knew that there was no way the boots were going to fit my calves. I said, "no, they're not gonna fit." "oh try them!", he replied. So for the sake of evangelism I put them on, and started zipping. I was expecting the zipper to stop moving as soon as it got to my lower calf. Well let me tell you, not only did it stop moving, but it got stuck. I attempted with some force to unzip the boot and yes, the zipper ended up splitting. And "seeking" shoe guy was standing there watching this all unfold.

So the boot was still on my foot. Stuck above my ankle and I couldn't get it off. I was sitting on the bench yanking away. Having thoughts like 'oh no, they're going to have to get a chain saw to cut me out of the boot.' Being the gentlemanly type that he was, "seeking" shoe guy started to help me by trying to pull the boot off my foot. What a moment.

This guy was determined to get the boot off. He pulled so hard but the boot wouldn't budge. I, on the other hand, began to slide off the bench as he tugged with all his might. So there I was, in the middle of the trendy shoe store with a broken boot stuck on my foot. By this time laughing my pants off cause, of course I realized the "hilarity" of the moment? All the poor "seeking" shoe guy could do was stand there not knowing what to do or say. It was the Cinderella moment I had always dreamed of!!

When we did get the boot off, I quickly got up, apologized over and over for breaking the boot, thanked "seeking" shoe guy for his help, And went on my way leaving him there trying to fix the zipper for spaghetti legs, who will one day buy those boots never knowing that rigatoni legs broke the zipper at one point in time.

So my quest for long boots ended rather abruptly that day. I decided that it wasn't worth the humiliation. I did find a pair of hush puppies last week though. Guess what? The Hush puppies shoe company has heard the voice of the "real" woman and now make boots for sausage calves like mine. Yaaaaay hush puppies!!!!!

It's too bad that I didn't get to share the gospel with "seeking" shoe guy. Maybe the Lord will restore my dignity and prompt me to go back and buy a pair of shoes from him someday. In the mean time, I'll pray that a twig legged evangelist shows up at transit to buy one said pair of lovely long black leather boots with a repaired zipper.