The Dirt Field

My latest search for high-quality cycling shoes took me to the Performance Bike store by my house the other night. I hate this particular store; after a series of very bad experiences with the employees earlier this summer, I complained at length to management and swore openly to never return. The problem is that this store is conveniently located, often filled with excellent sales, and possessing of a rather decent supply of bike products. When all else fails, I often creep shamefully back into the store, ignoring the gloating employees entirely, and regretfully buy what I need. Which is how I ended up there the other night – it was the only local store where I knew I could find the shoes I wanted to try on.

I dragged Bobby into the store with me (“Don’t leave my side for one second while we’re in there!”) and went straight to the wall where the shoes are kept, carefully avoiding any employees. I located my size, shoved my foot into the shoe, buckled the clasp, and instantly decided that they felt amazing. At my urging, Bobby also tried on a pair, although he was not nearly as smitten. He declared them too narrow for his feet and went to remove them, at which point he realized that the high-tech plastic clasp on the shoes would not come undone. I tried opening mine, but each way I pushed and pulled failed to yield the desired result, and I only succeeded in tightening my shoes even more.

Bobby gave up after roughly a minute of trying to unlock the clasp and settled for yanking the shoes off his feet without loosening them at all. I, however, had fastened mine so tightly that even the most forceful pulling would not remove the shoes. Frantic, I grabbed the instruction manual and flipped through it in hopes of saving myself the horror and shame of asking an employee for assistance. If it had come down to it, I would rather have severed my feet at the ankle and left them with the shoes in the box than have been forced to ask for help.

Moments before panic overwhelmed me, Bobby finally figured out how to undo the buckle and my dignity was saved. Until now, when I tell everyone in the world that I became trapped in these shoes:

At least my secret is safe from the employees at Performance Bike.