the really ugly truth
In light of recent events regarding memoirs, and not wanting in incur the wrath of Oprah, I am going to write about what happened to me yesterday.
What you are about to read is absolutely true. Nothing has been embellished for dramatic effect. None of the names have been changed to protect anyone.
It is one hundred percent, stark naked truth.
Okay...
As I've mentioned before, I work for a motion picture company here in Southern California. And located on the lot on which I work is an employee store where they sell candy and soft drinks and magazines and other assorted sundries. It's a nice place - there's even a guy who fixes watches and a place where you can drop off and pick up your dry cleaning.
But what I was interested in was the shoe repair service they offer. See, I broke my shoestring a while back as I was trying, as I am want to do, to tie my shoes as tightly as possible. So for the past few weeks I've been walking around with my right shoe only laced up half way and while I was getting tired of my shoe kind of flopping around, I was more concerned with where - and how - to procure new, black shoelaces. I mean, how do you do that? Where do you buy shoelaces? I wouldn't even know where to begin or what to ask for. Was it something I needed to order online? It was too much, and my shoe was staying on my foot pretty well (although not as tightly as I normally like) so I was putting it off as long as possible.
Then it hit me - the company store. Surely they sell shoelaces
I proudly announced my plans to my co-workers - none of whom believed that they actually sold shoelaces at the company store.
"But they have a shoe repair service," I explained.
"Doesn't matter. They don't have shoelaces."
"And I know for a fact that they sell chap stick there. I've seen it. And three different flavors of Ricola."
Still, no one believed that I could buy shoelaces at our company store. Now my goal was two-fold; first, to get shoelaces and enjoy a snug shoe once again and second, to quiet all the haters.
So I walked over to the store and asked the girl behind the counter if they sold black shoelaces.
"No, I'm sorry. We sure don't."
Failure.
The above story is as true as the fact that my wife just came upstairs after serving coffee and cookies to a contractor who doesn't speak English and was left behind by his co-worker who went to "get supplies", and said non-English speaking contractor has been in our garage by himself listening to an LA Kings game on the radio for over two hours now.
What you are about to read is absolutely true. Nothing has been embellished for dramatic effect. None of the names have been changed to protect anyone.
It is one hundred percent, stark naked truth.
Okay...
As I've mentioned before, I work for a motion picture company here in Southern California. And located on the lot on which I work is an employee store where they sell candy and soft drinks and magazines and other assorted sundries. It's a nice place - there's even a guy who fixes watches and a place where you can drop off and pick up your dry cleaning.
But what I was interested in was the shoe repair service they offer. See, I broke my shoestring a while back as I was trying, as I am want to do, to tie my shoes as tightly as possible. So for the past few weeks I've been walking around with my right shoe only laced up half way and while I was getting tired of my shoe kind of flopping around, I was more concerned with where - and how - to procure new, black shoelaces. I mean, how do you do that? Where do you buy shoelaces? I wouldn't even know where to begin or what to ask for. Was it something I needed to order online? It was too much, and my shoe was staying on my foot pretty well (although not as tightly as I normally like) so I was putting it off as long as possible.
Then it hit me - the company store. Surely they sell shoelaces
I proudly announced my plans to my co-workers - none of whom believed that they actually sold shoelaces at the company store.
"But they have a shoe repair service," I explained.
"Doesn't matter. They don't have shoelaces."
"And I know for a fact that they sell chap stick there. I've seen it. And three different flavors of Ricola."
Still, no one believed that I could buy shoelaces at our company store. Now my goal was two-fold; first, to get shoelaces and enjoy a snug shoe once again and second, to quiet all the haters.
So I walked over to the store and asked the girl behind the counter if they sold black shoelaces.
"No, I'm sorry. We sure don't."
Failure.
The above story is as true as the fact that my wife just came upstairs after serving coffee and cookies to a contractor who doesn't speak English and was left behind by his co-worker who went to "get supplies", and said non-English speaking contractor has been in our garage by himself listening to an LA Kings game on the radio for over two hours now.
posted by la.barabbas at 1:56 PM
8 Comments:
Wow, are you a mamas boy or what? How on earth can you really be 35 years old and not know where to buy shoelaces? And, worse yet, why do I suddenly feel like a bad wife for not noticing?
Honey, if you bring your boxer shorts in here, I'll iron them for you.
Most any shoe store should have what you are looking for and sometimes the large department stores and food stores too.
I had access to some parachute cord one time and made laces for my work boots...the string outlasted my boots.
Good luck, being human ain't easy. There has to be some metaphor deep inside the laces story, I feel it in my bones. I also think it is great you did not have to embellish any facts to get this story to press.
What; did you think you could just walk up and ask for shoelaces, by name, over the counter? You're lucky you walked out of there alive. And don't think this is over. What do you think that "non-english speaking contractor" is really there for? Nip it in the bud.
And don't let your sister-in-law iron your shorts. Californian or not, you have to set limits.
In times of emergency, such as a floppy shoe due to a lack of proper lace-age, let me suggest two words:
Duct Tape.
That'll make any shoe as snug as can be and you can always use a magic marker to color the tape to match your shoeshine.
Earlnemo is right, LA-B. I think you have set off a dangerous set events. This explains all the phone calls here at Chez Fleaflicker. It also explains the Polaroid picture I received in the mail of a sad little bound and gagged shoelace with a gun pointed to what I assume is its head.
You are lucky to be alive.
God speed man.
PS: I don't iron undershorts, Earlnemo. It's wash and wear knickers or nothing at all.
I am not his LA-B's sister-in-law. For God's sake, Earl. Just because we live in SOUTHERN California doesn't mean we marry our kin!
I used to think I was smart. I've been reading all y'all's posts and have been really impressed with the sheer amount of deep thinkers and really clever folks out there in a separate universe from where I live. BRAVO (brava?) to Kelvis...FABULOUS come-back...back to lurking for me!
Oh...also...ever hear of a little ol' thang called Wal Mart? They sell shoestrings of any color or size that you'd like. Of course, since I'm new to this alternate universe, perhaps you boycott Wal-Mart or something...I've heard there are people who do that...
Post a Comment
<< Back at the office