Man, frustrating day today.
So I went out merrily shopping today, and I had every hope that my luck with such things was gonna turn. Not so!
My most urgent quarry- a pair of heely shoes, women’s size 5. Once again, my director thinks that shoes with wheels in them is gonna be a great idea on stage. I must admit I was a little unenamored of the idea, considering what happened last time I had a director that really wanted these.
(For those that perhaps do not recall, I spent two days trudging about looking for them, finally locating a women’s size 10 1/2, spending the very last of my budget on the things, only to have them get cut because the actress was not coordinated enough to make them work onstage…)
But this time she really really wanted them, hang the cost! So yesterday I promised I’d have them tomorrow. Tomorrow being today. Er.. yes. I promised I would have them today, yesterday. Got it? Good for you. I’m now confused myself.
Anyway, rehearsal starts at 11, runs to 6. I say to myself that I’d like to have them there by 2. I get out the door at noonish, thinking this will be a quick stop, as I am certain to find them at the Foot Locker next to Bodies. I stop at Bodies to pick up my check and next week’s schedule, and post a card so that maybe somebody will come see the show. I then proceed to yon retail establishment.
Oh, no. They are out of stock. All they have left is kid’s sizes, up to 3. They send me to another store. But they never had them in stock at all, and look at me like I’m crazy for asking. Apparently these stupid shoes, (that Every kid that walks into Bodies seems to be wearing), is now a passe’ fad and no business in their right mind carries them anymore.
Wash. Rinse. Repeat. And again. And again…
I busted thrice on Fulton Street. So I went uptown to 14th street. No go. They sent me to Times Square. (I must mention that I hate going to times square, unless I have no place to go right quick and can afford to get stuck going one stairstep at a time behind somebody’s stroller…). No less than 6 separate stores I went to! This involved a lot of tripping over people’s children, navigating around clumps of snotty tourists, and attempting to get the attention of many harried salespeople.
Nobody had them. I thought I was going to cry.
It was now almost 3. An hour after I had hoped to be happily ensconced at rehearsal, doing fittings.
I decided I might have to give up on the shoes. In my head I was drearily composing the embarrassed speech I was gonna have to give. ‘I know I promised you those shoes today, but…’. And I got on a train downtown.
From Times Square it is easiest to take a Q train to 34th street and then transfer to the F to the Lower East side. 34th street also boasts the giant Macy’s of Doom, and several H&Ms. I was just at the H&Ms the day before, but I hadn’t had time to scope the Macy’s for some other things I needed. So I thought that on my way back, I might as well make a stop there and get Something done, seeing as I was already late.
I never did make it to the Macy’s. The crosswalk light was against me. But right behind me as I got off the train, a Journey’s shoe store.
“What the hell,” I thought. “I might as well take a look as stand here with the traffic against me.”
And they had ‘em. In the perfect color, even. Throwing 60 dollars down has never felt like such relief.
But that was the kind of day I had. Some other stuff occurred, mostly to the same frustration level. But I’m tired of writing about it, and (as the other stuff is either a- not as interesting, or b- more personal than I like to share here) perhaps it’s just as well. Suffice it to say that my dayjob is a dayjob, and that there’s a boy out there somewhere that I would dearly like to punch in the head. That’s all.
Tomorrow I must commence with the last of my shopping. To Williamsburg go I, to blend with the hipsters and make a fine raid upon their thrift stores.
