Shoes

I like shoes. I’m an all or nothing shoe gal. I have tennis shoes, flip flops and sandals—and then I have kitten heels and CFM pumps. I have one pair of flats but they look like Catholic Girl shoes—so even then, they serve a purpose. I’m always on the lookout for new shoes.

Yesterday I was playing catch up from my Friday Freeday, and this gentleman comes in. We’ll call him Joe. He wants in the program to finish his masters, which by the way he already thinks he was in. In fact, we’ve already had a couple discussions by phone and he’s come to my office to fill out paperwork. I hand him a packet, he proceeds to fill it out at my desk. I start a folder.

“Okay, Joe,” I say. “Now let me explain what your chances are for getting your program finished this semester.”

“They’re good, right?” He’s got a big shit-eating grin on his face.

“Right. Okay, hurdle number one. You have completed 24 hours. You can only bring in 12 hours of non-degree graduate credit….”

“But I didn’t realize I was non-degree. See, it says Grad over here on my transcripts…”

“That’s nice, Joe, but you’re still non-degree. See, next to the grad, it says NON-DEGREE. Okay. Now, this is bad because although all those hours are graduate level, right now, 12 hours are going to be classified as personal enrichment.”

“Yeah, that’s not what I was shooting for.”

“It never is, Joe. So we have to get you backdated.”

“So it can be done?”

“That’s only hurdle one, Joe. Stay with me. You also have to fill out a program of study….”

“Give it to me. I’ll do it now.”

“Yes, but you can’t really fill out the form until you’re in the program. Do you see my catch 22, here? Great.” Gets program form and hands it to him anyway. Might as well. “Fill it out anyway and we’ll proceed. Now the drop-dead date…”

“Drop dead date?”

“Yes, the last date you can turn in a program or you can drop dead—that’s in like two days. And you haven’t taken the graduate exam yet—so right now I have to talk with Dr. Sparrow to see if he’ll let you be conditionally admitted. If so, if all this goes right, you’re looking at a ½ of 1% likelihood of graduating this semester.”

“So there’s a chance? Awesome.” Mr. Optimism smiles. I just start laughing. I like this guy. What can I say?

I shake my head. “You are the one Dr. Sparrow warned me about. He said you’d be a problem. Well, you know what, you’re buying me shoes.” Don’t you like my leaps of logic?

“I’ll buy you whatever you want if you get me in this program. It’ll be worth it.”

“Good, because you’re buying me shoes. You might even be buying me some dinner because shopping is so exhausting.”

“I’ll buy you dinner. Everett’s okay?” Everett’s is one of the most expensive places in town. How nice.

“Of course, Everett’s is.”

“Longhorn has better steak,” he says.

“Yes, yes, it does, and it’s a bit cheaper…no…wait…”

He grins. “Longhorn can get pricey.”

“It can. Actually if we’re doing steak, I vote for G&D, no frills, great steak, and it’s right next to Shoe Carnival. Let me talk with the Grad School, and I’ll emphasize how important it is I get my shoes.” I do, and the Hellion over there laughs at me and says, we can probably do it, if you have the program turned in, etc. Hmmm. He must have worked some magic on her too. Actually I also promised her that he was willing to buy her shoes as well. She said she wore an 8 ½ or a 9, and she preferred a nice heel. I said, “I love heels myself. I think that will be the way to go.” I get off the phone. “Okay, Joe, we’re willing to work for shoes. Where’s my statement.”

“What statement?”

“This one.” I point to a question on the form. “You were supposed to write me a statement. I don’t even care what it says. It’s not going to matter. You have a 4.0 in everything anyway; we know you can write, which is why they make you write the statement to begin with…just write something down so I can mark it off my list.”

He laughs again. “You’re so funny.”

“Of course, I am. I’m in a good mood because I’m getting new shoes.” So he fills out his statement, his program, and around 5 pm, he trots back in my office because he can’t get the online website I sent him to to work. I sit him at my desk, pull up the site, and have him fill out the other form he needs. I sit at my desk, prop up my feet, and read my Ranger book. Joe finds this the height of amusing.

Dr. Sparrow came in this morning and laughs at me. “Joe is the ultimate procrastinator.”

“Yes, but he’s buying me shoes.” Four inch FMPs if I have anything to say about it. And I have a good idea who I’d first strut them off for too…and it won’t be Joe. Or Booty Call in Ohio. Or even Southern Boy.

So are you a shoe slut too? What are your favorite pair of shoes and why? My faves are a pair of 4 ½ inch red strappy heels. Total badass, total hellion shoes. (I need to find a skirt to wear with them. That’s my other mission in life is to find a skirt that will go with these shoes. And boy, when I do….)