run around

Recently, I had a hugely awkward interaction that gave me pause. With nothing but good intentions, I went to buy new running shoes in a local running store. I have successfully purchased shoes in this store over the last 15 years and never had an issue. Buying running shoes is one of the few purchases I still do in person because I feel like the people working in the store are typically very informed and helpful. Plus, I like to shop in our little downtown whenever possible and support the small businesses.

I went to the running store at 11:55 am on a Wednesday and they were closed. I was surprised by the late start but decided I would return a few hours later. This might seem like an irrelevant point but later on in this story I am going to want bonus points for having shown up in person two times in the same day. Around 2 pm the same day, I returned to the store wearing most of the clothes I had worn to play tennis that morning except I had changed out of my tennis skirt for athletic pants. I am providing this level of detail because when I previously shared this story people wanted to know what I was wearing when I went into the running store.

Upon entering the store, I was greeted by a female employee who looked to be about 25 years old. I was the only customer in the store and there was a second employee standing in the back of the store behind the cash register (or whatever we call the spot where you pay with a credit card and no cash is ever really used). The female employee asked me about what kind of shoes I was looking for and what type of exercise I do. I let her know that I was having some foot pain and that my chiropractor suggested I should look into two specific brands of shoes. I didn’t mention that I have upgraded shoe inserts, gel soles and toe covers because of injuries sustained over many years of tennis and working out. I am not new to athletic shoes. In hindsight, inserting more confidence and speaking up about my deep understanding of athletic footwear would have been a better strategy.

Next, she sat down on the retro shoe fitting stool with the vinyl seat and rubber, angled platform on the front and told me she needed to measure my feet. I hesitated for a second and considered saying to her, “I am 51 years old. If I know two things in the world, I know my shoe size and that I hate Fall Out Boy.” But, I kept that to myself and decided to go along with the exercise. She grabbed a metal shoe sizing instrument which was from the same era as the stool – the one they used at Buster Brown’s in the 70’s. She diligently measured both of my feet. When I looked down, I saw that I was exactly the size I thought I was – an 8.5. One foot is slightly bigger than the other but both are 8.5. Not 9, not 9.5.

At this point, she handed me a pair of socks and asked me to please put them on. I was a bit taken aback because I was already wearing socks that would be appropriate for trying on athletic shoes. She said that the store provided socks as a precaution to keep the new shoes clean. With the socks in my hand, I paused and tried to process this idea and considered whether I wanted to put her random socks on my dirty feet. Inexplicably and possibly in rebellion to this odd request, I sat down and put the store socks over my dirty socks. 

The employee stood up from the shoe fitting stool and she said, “I will get you a 9.5” I guess I was a little afraid of her so I didn’t say anything but I did take off her clean socks and my dirty socks and then put her clean socks back on. I wanted to make sure that when I tried on the shoes that I wasn’t going to get fitted incorrectly by wearing two pairs of socks.  I was certain that, as typical with shoe stores, she would emerge from the storeroom with several pairs of shoes in different brands and different sizes. She did not do that. She returned to where I was sitting on the fitting bench with one pair of size 9.5 shoes. Again, I chose to reserve my comments.

She repositioned herself on the shoe fitting stool and proceeded to put each shoe on my feet including tying them for me. I could see that she had a particular way of doing things and was managing my inner voice just long enough to try on one pair of shoes. But, it wasn’t easy. She criss-cross apple sauced my laces and asked me to stand. I knew right away that these shoes were too big but I wanted her to find out for herself. I stood up and she used her index and middle finger to measure the space between my toe and the end of the shoe. Then, she looked at me with a shit ton of self satisfaction and said, “Those are the right size for you.”

If you know me well, I’m certain you know that this was a tough situation for me suppress a number of sarcastic responses. Instead, I took a breath and said, “I think these are too big. I have never worn a size 9.5 in my life. I would be happy to try on a size 9.” 

She looked at me and said, “Sorry. These are the correct size. We have a specific way we fit shoes. That’s how we do things here.” We were clearly in a standoff and we both knew it. Another long pause by me before I responded with, “OK. What is the style number of these shoes?” My intention was for her to understand that in about 10 minutes I would be buying these shoes online in a size 9, or even an 8.5. Surprisingly, she told me the style number. I sat down and removed the store shoes and socks. As soon as I had the shoes off my feet, she picked them up, put them in the box and walked away. I waited a minute to see if the second employee would intervene on my behalf but she did not so I put on my dirty socks and tennis shoes and silently walked out.

I was stunned. Why wouldn’t she just want to bring out other sizes and styles and let me decide for myself which shoes I wanted? Isn’t she there to SELL shoes? Why do I find myself in these awkward situations more than other people? Why do I bother to buy anything in person when I can purchase everything online without opening myself up to potentially prickly exchanges? 

As in my normal practice, I have told this story in person to a few people and was given the following feedback:

* Your tennis clothes and mention of the chiropractor’s recommendation made you look like a “Karen” and the millennial salesperson disliked you immediately and with good reason.

* The salesperson does not work on commission, is disgruntled and would rather make you feel like a freak than have you buy shoes in the store.

I am tempted to go back to the store when I am showered and dressed differently with a couple of friends to see if I can recreate my experience (if only to have witnesses who can attest to me NOT being crazy or unreasonable).  But, I did order two pairs of the same shoes in sizes 8.5 and 9 and they came the next day and fit great. So, I do know my shoe size but I still don’t know why this happened, how I can avoid it in the future and how old you have to be before someone trusts you to know your own shoe size?