Yard Sale Shoes

This little story actually starts about a month ago when I found this wonderful little pair of shoes at a yard sale for just 50 cents! Can’t beat that! And they looked brand new too! Well, I wore them for the first time to work last night at the REC (USPS). I was working for another coworker who wanted off to go to a parade, so I was there just out of the goodness of my heart. I kept noticing all night that my right shoe seemed to be "sticky," almost as if there were traces of some chewed gum on the sole of the shoe or something. I kept checking it, but it was fine.

Mail wasn’t as heavy as the supervisors had feared, so we were being given the opportunity to take early-outs. When my time bracket was called, I decided to seize the moment and leave early. I had things to do after all. I had to go check something with a supervisor first, so I just put my computer on hold and walked up there. About halfway up to the desk, I knew I was in trouble. My sturdy little yard sale shoe had turned into an instant flip-flop. What?? I looked down, and sure enough! The sole was almost completely off save for about the front three inches. How that much of it managed to hang on I’ll never know. I somehow made it up to the supervisor’s desk and then back to my console.

Well, what exactly do you do when your shoe is non-functioning, and you have to WALK like really FAR before you can leave? Well, to make it even worse, they asked us to walk all the way up to the time clock, clock out, and then walk all the way back to the supervisor’s station and hand them our card–nothing at all to someone with functioning shoes.

I really didn’t know what I was going to do. I thought about taking one of my shoe strings out and somehow tying the sole up, but that didn’t quite seem like the thing I wanted to do. The only other kind of "string" I would’ve had that could’ve even remotely worked, would’ve been my headphones. That didn’t seem inconspicuous enough either.

In a fit of pure desperation, I grabbed one of the pins that was already busy holding my covering on my head. I decided to try jabbing it through the back of my shoe with the intent of going through it and catching hold of the sole enough to keep it in place long enough to get out of the building. Keep in mind, I was also under severe pressure to get clocked out as the Postal Service does not like to pay employees for non-productive time. I aimed carefully and jabbed it into my shoe. It bent immediately–almost as if it were made of paper. No good. Well, there was nothing left to do but gather my things up and leave, shoe or not.

And then I started The Incredible Journey. This is a long building, and I was in the back. I decided to go the perimeter of the building instead of down the main aisle to try to attract the least amount of attention. I tried scooting my foot along as I walked to minimize the amount of space for Flop, but this was as effective as if I were a Thunderclap itself. Thank goodness we were allowed to use the time clock that was on the workroom floor (the others are all the way out in the hall). This clock was about half as far as the others. And thank goodness almost everyone was using their headsets.

I somehow made it back to Renee with my time card-- face burning red! She gave no indication she had noticed anything amiss, so I had a little more courage. I went back to skirting the building on the outside aisle. To the innocent observer, it appeared as if I had invented a new way of walking.... either that, or I had a major Charlie Horse. I was far enough behind the crowd that had left early that I wasn’t worried about them hanging around anymore, but by the time I had painfully made my way to the consoles for St. Petersburg-- horror of horrors.

The supervisors were relocating the Knoxville keyers to..... (Where else?) .... St. Pete, of course.
A whole herd of people was headed my way! As I was not making good time at all and certainly wouldn’t be out of their way by the time they were ready to run me over, I did the only intelligent thing I could think of--I dropped to the floor and firmly retied my shoe--nodding and smiling pleasantly at the people who came close by.

Whew! This was getting beyond desperate!. Because I couldn’t just tie my shoes until everyone went home, I waited little bit yet until all the people were all settled in at their work stations with their headsets hopefully turned back on again before I headed for the doors. When I finally made it through the workroom doors and into the hall, I faced a new dilemma. There were people lined up at the time clocks waiting to clock in. I think God must have strategically placed one of my friends there at the front of the line so that I could do the "How are you?" niceties. And I just chit-chatted with her for all I was worth....all the while slowly doing the Backwards Shuffle as I kept backing down the hall toward the bathroom. Of course, this meant that I actually could just plumb slide my shoe along. With a "ta ta" to my friend, I was INSIDE the bathroom and heading straight for the handicapped stall– the one with all the room. And then I took the crazy shoe off and took my only OTHER pin and did surgery on it from the inside. This pin also bent immediately, but I got it arranged just enough to catch on to the sole of the shoe so that it wouldn’t flop when I walked. I fastened my covering on with one of my hair clips... I know it looked crazier than anything, but I was gambling that anyone I met wouldn’t notice.

I then made a beeline for the door and left! I must admit, my faith in yard sale bargains has definitely been shaken to the very core. If my scars from this escapade should ever heal, you can be sure I will examine any future yard sale items very carefully. But I still maintain that this particular pair of shoes is beautiful! I just had to learn the "It’s- the-Inside-that-Counts" Lesson the hard way. But maybe I can get a $1 out of them at my yard sale next spring. 100% return on my investment... not bad! (After telling Sara my tale of woe the next day, she told me she had seen me walking and thought I must’ve done something awful to my foot the way I was limping and all–so much for trying to cover it up.)