Saturday, 9 January 2010

Was supposed to go to a barn dance this evening but wimped out of it using the weather as an excuse. I feel quite bad in the sense that I, and a few others, were invited to this thing and said we'd go... and now some of us aren't... but, really, the weather is quite a problem. I know roads are generally okay but, even a tiny risk that we might get stuck on any icy back road in Wickford at midnight is enough of a risk for me. Stranded in Wickford for a night... I mean, you'd need to be made of sterner stuff than I to survive that.

I got some new shoes today. They're utterly shite. Cheapo brown suede things. Not really shoes actually, more like trainers. I think they may even be sneakers. Pretty certain they're not loafers. I'm no good at identifying type of shoe. It's hard to tell where the lines are drawn. It's like breeds of dog... they all fundamentally look like dog. You know, I'm taking in the differences but I'm just getting dog. So, yeah, I'd seen these shoes ages ago in the Stead & Simpson and felt myself being drawn towards them. They seemed pleasant & understated - two of the qualities I've always looked for in footwear. I knew that they were essentially a crap example of the medium but I couldn't get them out of my head. Everywhere I went afterwards in my search for a solid shoe I'd find myself comparing these new, decent-looking shoes I was browsing with those awful, awful, awful things I'd seen in the Stead & Simpson that day but couldn't get because they only had a 6 or an 8. That was frustrating. Anyway, today I strolled back in there on the off-chance - after being dealt a similar blow in the Clarks - and asked again if they had them in a 9. I fully expected to be confronted with bad news again but, to genuine surprise, the lady came back clutching the most beautifully crafted white cardboard box. I snatched them up there and then. Didn't even need to try them on. Intuition. Gonna go back soon, maybe tomorrow, and buy another 2 or 3 pairs. I'd like to have a supply of them to last me the decade. Amusingly, they're called the Beckett Federer.

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