Boots
I think I've officially found the most incompetent shoe shop in the country!
I shall elucidate on this claim...
Yesterday I decided to celebrate surviving two crazy days in the office with a spot of retail therapy and after a spot of browsing for a bit I came across a lovely brown pair of boots.
Now I should explain that for years boot shopping for me has been a struggle as due to my exiguously minute calves most knee highs make me look like I've donned a pair of hip-waders.
Thus finding a pair that fitted as snugly as a pair of Jilly Cooper jodhpurs was very exciting for me.
After trying them on I agreed to take them and the lovely young lady disappeared behind that magical curtain to the land of Spareoom which is filled by trees that grow lovely shoes.
Now what happened behind that curtain I shall never know, perhaps she met a fawn, rode a sleigh and became a queen, all I know was that she certainly was in there a long time before she reappeared with my lovely new boots.
I worried a little when they said they didn't have any bags left big enough to fit the box so would I be happy to leave the box. But trying to be kind and patient I said that was fine.
The excitement really kicked off when I got back to the office and tried them on to show them to a colleague. Suddenly I was again wearing hip waders that actually made it impossible to walk, though they could be handy as there was at least the space to hold a lipstick, wallet, rhino, kitchen sink…
Was it a dream? Did the boots only fit in the shop or had my calves just swelled under the exhilaration of shopping?
My lovely colleague fell into a fit of giggles at my state of stupefaction and suggested they might not be quite right as I tripped and fell back into my chair.
It was at this point that I looked at the soles and saw I was actually wearing a pair of size 9 boots!
Now being Welsh and female I can only imagine what it would be like to be over six foot tall or have large feet and so size nine wasn't quite what I had tried on originally.
Today I toddled back to the shop with a sense of apprehension that only the British have when taking back clothes, but glad that I had my little feet ready to prove I was never a hobbit.
I started to explain the problem to the assistant when she suddenly set off on a ten minute rant about boxes, apparently they won't accept exchanges without "the original packaging". I tried to explain that due to their lack of resources that the bag in fact was the "original packaging" but she wasn't having any of it so I tried to change to logic and say that if she gave me the new boots she could keep the box and put the size nines in it without losing anything…but that apparently was not policy. After a rather lengthy outburst she finally decided that she could do it but "just this once" at which point I feigned enormous gratefulness and decided to remind myself in the future that I actually look pretty good in fishing gear anyway.
When I try them on later I look forward to wearing my two left boots.
I shall elucidate on this claim...
Yesterday I decided to celebrate surviving two crazy days in the office with a spot of retail therapy and after a spot of browsing for a bit I came across a lovely brown pair of boots.
Now I should explain that for years boot shopping for me has been a struggle as due to my exiguously minute calves most knee highs make me look like I've donned a pair of hip-waders.
Thus finding a pair that fitted as snugly as a pair of Jilly Cooper jodhpurs was very exciting for me.
After trying them on I agreed to take them and the lovely young lady disappeared behind that magical curtain to the land of Spareoom which is filled by trees that grow lovely shoes.
Now what happened behind that curtain I shall never know, perhaps she met a fawn, rode a sleigh and became a queen, all I know was that she certainly was in there a long time before she reappeared with my lovely new boots.
I worried a little when they said they didn't have any bags left big enough to fit the box so would I be happy to leave the box. But trying to be kind and patient I said that was fine.
The excitement really kicked off when I got back to the office and tried them on to show them to a colleague. Suddenly I was again wearing hip waders that actually made it impossible to walk, though they could be handy as there was at least the space to hold a lipstick, wallet, rhino, kitchen sink…
Was it a dream? Did the boots only fit in the shop or had my calves just swelled under the exhilaration of shopping?
My lovely colleague fell into a fit of giggles at my state of stupefaction and suggested they might not be quite right as I tripped and fell back into my chair.
It was at this point that I looked at the soles and saw I was actually wearing a pair of size 9 boots!
Now being Welsh and female I can only imagine what it would be like to be over six foot tall or have large feet and so size nine wasn't quite what I had tried on originally.
Today I toddled back to the shop with a sense of apprehension that only the British have when taking back clothes, but glad that I had my little feet ready to prove I was never a hobbit.
I started to explain the problem to the assistant when she suddenly set off on a ten minute rant about boxes, apparently they won't accept exchanges without "the original packaging". I tried to explain that due to their lack of resources that the bag in fact was the "original packaging" but she wasn't having any of it so I tried to change to logic and say that if she gave me the new boots she could keep the box and put the size nines in it without losing anything…but that apparently was not policy. After a rather lengthy outburst she finally decided that she could do it but "just this once" at which point I feigned enormous gratefulness and decided to remind myself in the future that I actually look pretty good in fishing gear anyway.
When I try them on later I look forward to wearing my two left boots.
posted by Di Venn @ 2/15/2006 12:34:00 PM
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