SHOE DESTINY

SHOE DESTINY Michelle Phillips

Summer vacation is SO underrated. I entertained that joyous thought today, Mon-day, June 18, my true last day of freedom. Today I had to set and meet some goals in order to prepare for my challenging experience as a member of the Denver Writing Project. Tomorrow, I would have to prove my mettle to Rick VanDeWeghe and a sea of poten-tially intimidating peers. How strange for the program to begin on Tuesday instead of on Monday.

After an unusually fun trip to OfficeMax (a.k.a. Organizer Heaven), I decided that I needed a slight aversion from academia. What to do? Where to go? The answer raced into my mind well before the questions wore out their welcome. The mall! Gravity was beginning to get the better of my blood sugar level anyway, so I decided to have lunch there also. My dad's rhetoric came to mind immediately� Oh, Meeshell, why must you spend all your money? Do you need me to go to the commissary for you? Don't you have any food at your house? It's good, though, to think that even after seeing me in my Olympian form, my dad is under the impression that starving to death is not out of the realm of possibility for me. No matter. Onto Cherry Creek Mall!

As I made the march from my car on parking level E2 to the mall entrance near Cinnabon, I failed to realize the incredible underestimation I had made of today's trip. I had visualized a quick jaunt to the essential shops only. I had been mistaken before about quick jaunts to the mall.

I proudly made my way PAST Cinnabon and the tempting delights there down the corridor to Panda Express (or just The 'Da for us 2-item-combo veterans). It was simply my day. A clean tray, a friendly server, a quick line, savory food, and an obscenely large Pepsi. In addition, I always find much comfort in The 'Da's abundance of seating for single people. I don't mean people who have yet to find their "special someones" (and after watching a 2-hour show on the personal lives of circus freaks, I KNOW anything is possible). I really mean people who are dining alone.

Well, after paying for my 'Da combo, I made my way to one of the many spaces unofficially reserved for the single person. Experiencing a feeling of sociabil-ity/suspicion, I decided to place myself facing the entrance of the restaurant. I regarded the especially good cuisine spilling over the plate in front of me. My head may have joined the food on my plate if I hadn't begun to inhale all those complex carbos. Meeshell, don't force anything. Eat what you can, but don't force yourself. Thanks, Dad. I'll be sure to pace myself. Chow mein, chow mein, tofu, carrot, (blood sugar level in-creasing) chow mein, Pepsi, water chestnut, water chestnut, tofu, chow mein, (blood sugar level on the rise) carrot, green pepper, Pepsi, Pepsi, Pepsi (blood sugar level dan-gerously out of control).

I can NEVER get my tofu crispy on the outside.And what IS the sauce they use to season it?This is just what I needed.Oooh, I LOOOOOVE water chestnuts!I can't believe I used to order fried rice with everything. This place has THE BEST veggie spring rolls.I just had a venti iced mocha two hours ago and now I am drinking a large Pepsi like it's water and I'm at the finish line.Oh, yeah, the mocha WAS decaf. Heywhat'sthat?

If it hadn't been for the sign forcing me to focus my staccato line of vision, I may never have ceased my inner monologue. In radiant white lights, the sign glowed LADY FOOT LOCKER. It beckoned me to dispose of the remainder of my lunch (I didn't want to force anything). The LFL beacon lured me to its enchanting interior. Ironic since I am not quite in need of a footlocker or any other place to store my like-new athletic gear.

This was the only time in my life when I have felt close to Batman. (There was a time when I was about 12 and I thought AquaMan was way hot�did I say 12?) Like Gotham needed Batman, Lady Foot Locker needed me. I knew that hiding somewhere in that consumer's paradise was a pair of tennis shoes I had promised myself I would liber-ate�one day�one day�

"Who wears these clothes?" I asked myself as I stepped past mounds of crewneck t-shirts and far-too-short shorts. I had barely gotten the question completely formed when visions of my sister spun through my head. Oh, yeah, Tammie, certified spinning instructor. Naturally. But clothes were not my destination today. No; instead the shoe displays called to me from a place so divine, I thought I was back at Blessed Sacrament School in seventh grade listening to Sister Sheila lecture to us about It-lee.

I walked - no, glided - to the shoe display. This was where I belonged. I had come home.

"Over here, Michelle," called the Nikes in their sirenesque manner. "Don't you wanna be like Mike?"

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no, you must try us!" scoffed the DKNYs in their lofty posi-tion.

"Girlfriend! Get your butt over here now!" laughed the ever comfortable and casual New Balances.

Despite the challenge presented to me, I ignored them all. I could hear a voice I had never heard before. It was more of a purr than a voice. What happened next is rather fuzzy, since I had taken flight and was, as a result, out of my body. With a force not of my own, my head began to bend down past the inferior shoes only to come upon the most fabulous shoe I had ever seen. There it was in all its Puma glory. Its shocking colors, white and five shades of pink (I counted), blended into a vision of certainty. I must have these shoes. No other shoe would do. I had discovered my mission and had chosen to accept it.

Cheerfully, Bonnie at LFL managed to locate the mate to my pink-and-white des-tiny, talk to her sister on the phone, and help another customer simultaneously. I con-tinue to wonder that, despite her extraordinary multi-tasking skills, if she had focused on one task at a time, would my shoes have been mine sooner? Regardless, knowing that good things come to those who wait AND don't mind paying for them, I practiced unpar-alleled Catholic patience. I am a credit to the Blessed Sacrament Falcons.

Relieved that my warhorse Visa card had finally been approved (isn't that what we all seek?), I signed on the segmented line, gathered my parcel and purse, and re-entered the ordinary world outside LFL, exhilarated at the notion of accomplishing a long-standing goal. On any other day, the return trek to my car would have been typi-cally a-dramatic. But today the steps up to parking level E2 carried me victoriously to my car. I felt like I should run around the field lifting my shirt over my head. GOOOOOOOOOAAAAAALLLLLL!!!!!!!

Arriving back home that Monday afternoon, I concluded that truly nothing could have spoiled my success. Well, maybe one thing...

Ring ring ring.

"Hello?" "Hi, Michelle. It's Rick. Are you okay? We missed you this morning." I set three new goals for myself right then: always double check dates, always allow voice mail to answer calls, and never forsake a cool pair of shoes.