Religidiot.

So, when things started to get hot this season, and it was time to break out the sandals, I came to a startling conclusion:  The only sandals I had that were still surviving were cheapo skanky flip-flops. I hadn’t, I realized, bought nice summer shoes in a few years! And I realized I needed shoes I could 1) wear in hot weather, and 2) wear with a dress, or to work without announcing my arrival with the gentle “smack-smack” of foam rubber on my nasty heels.

So after surveying the goods at Urban Outfitters, DSW, Macy’s, FreePeople.com, and finally, the goods in my bank account, I found myself at Target this afternoon, hoping to find something that looked cute but not cost and arm and a leg (because if you think about it, that would diminish the cuteness of any sandals I bought by about half).

Standing there, a beggar trying to be a chooser, I couldn’t find anything I liked.  First of all, where did this fad come from where we glue plastic jewels and sequins on all the shoes?!  The strappy gladiator types were nice, but as I struggled with all the straps and buckles in the store, I suddenly had a clear vision of myself throwing them across my room after getting frustrated with how complicated they were.  I also have a mind block on patent leather and snakeskin (unfortunate in 2009), so that wiped out like half of the selection. I considered fringed thongs, but then I realized, one more pair of fringed leather shoes, and I’m sure the Minnetonka Fringe Police are going to put out a warrant out for my arrest.

Then, I saw them. A flat, braided t-strap slingback thong that hit all my requirements: No cheap bling, no sparkles or patent leather, simple, gladiator-like without all the bells and whistles, less than $20… In a size 9.

I’m a size 6 1/2 – 7ish, but no matter, I searched all the shoe racks for the same style in my size.  I found an 11 and a 5 1/2. Shoot.  After trying unsuccessfully to wedge my foot into the latter, I walked up to the lady at the fitting room counter and asked if they had any other sizes in the back.  A quick search on her magical scanning machine and she found there were none left in that Target, but there might be in another area Target. I thanked her and began to walk away, when she offered to call said Target branch and ask. I agreed.

10 minutes and 8 impatient fitting room patrons later, we found out that the other Target was out too.  I thanked her for going through so much trouble and walked away dejectedly.  Those were the only sandals I really liked… in true overdramatic fashion, I pictured myself going to summer cookouts, wearing adorable sundresses and dirty flip-flops as people pointed and laughed.

Sometimes, I find a good overwrought and unrealistic fantasy can help me feel better about reality, which is that nobody really cares what shoes I wear except for me.

But still, I wandered through the racks, hoping against hope that perhaps another style would suddenly appeal to me.

And then, there they were: My Shoes. In a size 7.  They were without a box, and carelessly shoved into a row of shoes where they didn’t belong.  Overjoyed, I grabbed them, took them to the front and paid, and practically skipped out of the store!

In my ecstasy, I thought to myself, “It’s almost as if GOD HIMSELF knew how much I wanted those shoes, and answered my prayers!” (Not that I stood there and prayed in Target, or anything.)

Then I laughed at my ridiculous thought.  Because I’m sure God is up in heaven going, “We’ve got people on Earth dying of war and disease and famine… but this girl, she needs some cute shoes.”