sometimes color counts

Sometimes I just want what I want. And when I'm willing to pay for it, I want what I want with a heartfelt thank you for shopping and have a nice day.

Like yesterday. I'll set this up with a thorough yet succinct history. (Upon re-read, not so succinct)

I've needed new running shoes for a few months now. My old orange ones from the marathon are literally cracking. And the white and green pair i bought last year are now gray and snow/winter-worn down to will-work-for-food, but I've been forcing them through the last few weeks of unpredictable St. Louis weather, knowing their time had passed a while ago.

As a side note, at Christmas, my husband decided he too needed running shoes for some training he was beginning for his new adventures in 9 to 5dom and i decided to buy them as my Christmas present to him. It was about then, Decemberish, that I a: decided to go shopping for both of us and b: discovered the Great River Running Store (the name has been been changed here. it is actually the Big River Running Company) had just opened up near this coffee shop I love called Murdoch Perk (really) in a small neighborhood i that I like, in the city I try and shop within.

Now the Great River Running Store is tiny. And mostly empty any time I passed by. But I love little-businesses-that-could, and I try so hard to support any new start ups in our city that aren't pawn shops or check cashing places or dollar stores. So I decided to buy my next pair of shoes there. And my husband's Christmas present at the same time.

At Christmas I went inside and found out they "didn't carry Asics yet but would in a month or two, so please come back." So I purchased my husband's shoes at The Running Center on Manchester (always, always good service). And decided to wait for a hole to form in my own, or at the very least, for another month or so to check back at GRRS.

So on Saturday, I stopped into Great (Big) River. They now carried Asics. Woooohoooo. But they only had one style of Cumuluses. Orange ones that looked a little like my crackalack pair I have from 2007. I tried them on, knowing that barring a misplaced staple or string there wouldn't be a thing wrong with my favorite brand and make of shoe. Except for the dang cheap looking orange stripes on the side. I stood there feeling my feet all at home inside this ugly pair of shoes. And my brain kept saying: don't do it, you hate these orange shoes, but my feet kept saying ooooh these feel yummy so my feet let him ring me up and I took them home.

By Monday morning I realized i was never going to wear those orange shoes. They were still snug as orange bugs in a rug in the box on my dresser. I'd rather wear my OLD orange crack n peels than put these cheap looking orange painty new models on (the orange swooshes aren't even dyed plastic, they are paint on white plastic). So I bagged them back up and searched for my receipt. Unfortunately, for someone who never never loses a receipt, I've suddenly become one of those people who let the receipts fly around my car with the windows down just moments after purchasing something. how did i become my husband?

So no receipt, but I was certain it wouldn't matter since Ben (also not a made up name. a very real running boy named Ben works there) would certainly remember me by all the personal info he gathered when he made the sale. So I went in with my bag of shoes and with my research done (they come in black/limeade/steel stripes and would've cost $85 with free shipping, no attitude, and arrived on my doorstep by wednesday, if I'd've just bought em on Amazon instead of paying the upcharge for the pleasure of shopping locally and supporting other entrepreneurs like me.

Here's what Ben said, seriously: you know we're not supposed to just let anyone come in here and get whatever color they want. i mean if we just did this for everyone we'd never sell the colors we order ourselves, you know. i really shouldn't do this, because now how am i going to sell the orange and white ones if you are now buying the green ones? you are really lucky you got me today, because nobody else would do this. and he said it all with a really sincere smile, in between making the phone call to asics, like he was doing me a really big favor by selling me something I'd driven to his store (three times now) to pay him a profit for.

i promise I only mentioned once that maybe I should just return them instead. (but without the receipt I knew I should only mention this in a whisper while he was lecturing me, because I could not likely not get very far on that front anyway.( i'm reminded of this time i heard someone say: you should not write checks yo ass cain't cash.

but he made the call and let me thank him profusely and he ordered the green ones and sent me away to await a phone call in a week or so when i could drive back a fourth time to get the shoes i wanted.

and i left feeling, i don't know, disappointed? in myself for letting this bad customer service leak out into the world on my watch. silly for wanting "what i wanted" and was willing to pay a hundred dollars plus tax for. annoyed for having gone out of my way to support the little guy (the store, not Ben, though he IS runner-skinny). I felt like i had bad hair and was obviously such an amateur because a REAL runner wouldn't care what color her shoes were.

sadly i'll never shop at the overpriced, cute, empty running store again. and I'll only ever see Ben again at the 11th mile mark of the half marathon I'll run in April. He'll be walking in the opposite direction, eating a bagel and wearing that tin foil blanket, having finished his FULL marathon in the time it'll take me to ALMOST finish the half. but i'll be wearing some fine looking limeade & steel colored asics and smiling from my head to my happy green feet.