“Can you check the pink in hightops, size 13?”
“Are these for you?”
“Um, yeah.”
“Um, OK.”
Awkward exchange at a shoe store in Charlottesville recently when I came across a pair of Converse Chuck Taylors for sale in a color that I don’t have yet.
Yep, pink.
It was the second such awkward exchange with a shoe sales clerk over my interest in pink hightops.
I get it, in a sense, and what I get I don’t like.
The first clerk went into a soliloquy about how she hoped her boyfriend never asked her for pink shoes.
How do you respond to something like that?
“Um, you know, I’m heterosexual.”
As if that would matter one way or the other.
(Not, as Jerry and George said once on “Seinfeld,” that there’s anything wrong with that.)
Gay, straight, whatever – I just want pink Chuck Taylor hightops in my size.
I like pink. I wore a pink dress shirt yesterday. I’ve worn a pink hat for a photo in a YMCA promotional photo. (And kept the hat.)
The bad news: no pink Chucks at the store that I visited last week.
But there was a pair in my wife’s size at another store that we stopped at a couple of months back.
(We weren’t accosted there when I asked about size-13s.)
Crystal wore her pair one workday this week, just for me.
(I was so-o-o-o jealous.)
More columns by Chris at TheWorldAccordingToChrisGraham.com.
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