Yesterday’s trip to Stride Rite may have topped that, though. I went in looking for some shoes for Joshua. He’s not walking yet, but it just occurred to me that we keep sending him to the nursery at church without shoes and that the nursery staff may be wondering just what brand of redneck we are that we don’t put shoes on our kid to crawl around on tile floor. But I digress…
The saleswoman and I had already gotten of to a rocky start. I asked for “9-12 month shoes,” but she apparently had no idea that their baby shoes were sized by month, yet kept acting as though I were the idiot. Anyway, we finally found some shoes. I took them to the register to pay and she started to fill out a “Buy 7 pairs of shoes, get the 8th pair free” card for me. Then she stopped.
“You’re not local, right?” she said.
“Actually I am,” I said. “But I’m wondering why you made that assumption.”
“Well, your car has
I nodded, encouraging her to finish her thought.
“…and you talk like a Yankee.”
There isn’t another Stride Rite within 50 miles. That’s the only reason she got my money.