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She Laughs
By S.D. Craig
Published December 2001

She slams the door of the car that needs washing and walks toward the tall building with big block lettering in blue, wearing Keds that used to be white.  Entering through double doors, she spies the running track, complete with rubber matted floors, that circles inside the perimeter of the sports shoe store.  Her eyes widen as she adds up in her head how much that must've cost and then thinks about those that try it out.  She laughs then. 

A smirk crosses her face as she thinks of the avid, serious runner, tugging on the new shoes, and standing to get in his groove before he marches to the track.  He'll probably walk down the wooden steps that are placed strategically in three spots around the top half of the track, selecting the one closest to his try-on bench seat.  He'll shake his ankles out, roll his neck, place his forearms and hands in position, then take off doing a light jog.  She grins again, wondering if he might even trip while all the customers and salesmen watch him gather speed around the corner.  Sighing, she shrugs and works her way over to the walking shoe display.

A young man of close to twenty steps up behind her.  "May I help you?" he says politely, and she recognizes him as the salesman that helped her last time. 

"Yes, I need new walking shoes.  Looking for some New Freedoms."  She glances casually at the display, trying to lock on the brand she covets.

When he seems confused, she turns to him.  His face is puzzled and he asks "New Freedom?  I don't think..."

"Yeah, something like that, New..." she said.

"New Balance?" he asks helpfully.

"Yeah, yes, that's it.  I knew it was new something," then she shuts up, realizing she had just asked the young man for a brand name mini pad instead of her favorite walking shoes.

"Yes, we have them," he said and pointed to several models. 

She recovers without him noticing a thing.  "Oh, and last time I was here, you mentioned another Reebok brand for walking that was real popular?  With real cushiony soles, but you only had it in men's sizes and they were too big for me..."

"Yes, the Reebok, it's on sale, too.  It's very popular, though I admit we also push it pretty hard.  It's got the most cushion in its sole.  Here it is," he said and offered it up to her.

"Okay, I think last time you sold me a 9 1/2, but I might need a 9.  Those New Balances were 9 1/2 and you gave me the wide, so maybe the 9 would do.  Let's try a 9 and 9 1/2 in a New Balance and the Reeboks," she said, her smile back intact.

He nods and goes to fetch her the shoes, returning with two boxes.  "I didn't have the New Balance in the wides, only mediums, but I had the Reeboks."

She tries the size 9, it's a bit tight across the top of her right foot. 

The young man bends over, pushing on her right toe.  "No, I'd still go with the 9 1/2 to give you some room."  He takes the 9's from her and hands her the box with the larger shoes. 

She pulls out paper from the left one, and pulls, and pulls, and laughs out loud.  "Gosh, they really stuff these things!"

He smiles down at her as she puts on the left shoe.

"Hmmm, this toe feels tighter..." she begins, then pulls off the shoe and peers into it.  She hands it to him.  "Is there still paper in the toe of that?"

"Yes, there is."  He reaches in with his more slender fingers and grabs it, then hands the shoe back to her. 

She thinks he's not a very attractive young man but he's pleasant.  She puts the shoe back on, feeling room in the toe this time.  "Ah, that's much better."  Leaning down, she puts her toes into the right shoe, slides her foot in, and ties it up.  She stands.  "Yes, these feel great."  Turning to the left, she starts to walk to the stairs, then decides the stairs in the middle are closer.  She turns to the right and goes down on to the rubberized track.  She's not going to jog, or run, or even trip.  Not after that New Freedom speech.  She walks, and she begins to giggle at her mistake.  The true meaning of foot-in-mouth was absolutely hers today.

Returning to her purse and shoes, she tells the young man she'll take them, keep them on, and places her old Keds in the new box.  After paying for the Reeboks and walking sprightly out of the store, she smiles.

"New Freedom?!?" she asks no one.  She turns the key in the car door.  "Oh my God."  She laughs all the way home.  Wait'll she tells her friends.

About the writer: SD Craig is a freelance writer and editor of LovingYourCurves.com and was given the nickname "Chatterbox" by fellow writers. At age fifty, Craigs Southern flair and sense of humor give her plenty to write about with a rapier wit and a wacky outlook. Her articles on body image (her biggest passion), marriage/divorce and relationships, family, friends, career issues, computers, the Internet, horses, baseball, movie reviews and writing tips remind one of Erma Bombeck or Dave Barry. A freelance writer who once juggled five columns then got real, Craig welcomes your e-mails and feedback on her articles. Drop her a hello at sdcraig922@yahoo.com or stop by www.lovingyourcurves.com.

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