Police and Thieves and Shoes and Dogs

I think my feet are shrinking.  I know my head has shrunk; I went to a psychiatrist.  Really, my head is smaller.  My eyeglasses fit better.  They don’t squish into the fat along my temples.  My ears are still the same size. 

I own a lot of shoes.  A lot of them are covered with dust on the floor of my closet.  I’d have the maid dust them every day, but I don’t have a maid.  The dust is giving the leather a protective shield.  I started with a good variety of colors, but now all of my shoes are grey.

I sold shoes at ZCMI for a few months.  I learned to appreciate good shoes.  I learned how to spot bad shoes.  I learned to loathe customers.

I worked at the long-gone ZCMI in downtown Salt Lake.  I once chased a woman who tried to use a stolen credit card to buy shoes.  I chased her across the store and out into the street.  I caught her in the crosswalk between ZCMI and Crossroads Mall.  I didn’t touch her, but I did lie to her.  I told her that the police and security were on their way to us.  I told her that there was going to be a big scene right here in the street, or she could follow me back into the store where she could talk to the police in the privacy of the security office.  Amazingly, she believed me.  One swift kick from her and I would have dropped like a bag of cement.  She could have easily gotten away.  

Where is the security office?

I escorted her to the security office but it was vacant.  I called security and I was told that security can’t be bothered right now because they’re trying to catch a customer with a stolen credit card.  Exasperated, I explain that I have the thief and I’m at the security office.  They explain to me that I’m not at the security office and to leave them alone because they have work to do.  Click!  The thief is patiently waiting for me.  My threats are unraveling.  Her shoes have pointed toes.  She’s going to kick me and run.  It’s going to hurt.

After repeated calls where I begged, threatened, and bribed, they finally sent one person from security to find me.  I explained to the security officer that this extremely gullible woman wearing pointed shoes what the thief they were looking for.  The security officer escorted us to the real security office.  At some point, they’d moved the security office to the basement of the building.  It would have been helpful to know that.  When we arrived at the security office there were two policeman, the woman who’d had her card stolen, and about fifty security guards.  The victim was crying and thanked me profusely for catching the thief.  The security guards looked at me like I was an idiot for not divining the location of the new office.

I never touched the thief and I didn’t get kicked, but the police did touch her.  She was handcuffed when I left the security office.

I heard later that the thief had stolen the purse of a Nordstrom’s employee in Crossroads mall.  She’d snuck into the backroom and found where the victim had stored her purse and stole it.  She’d grabbed the cash and cards and threw the purse in a garbage can.  She’d made several purchases at ZCMI before the victim noticed her purse was gone and reported the card stolen.  I saved the victim a lot of heartache.  I saved ZCMI a lot of money.

ZCMI would reward their employees for catching thieves. I think the reward was in the range of $50 to $100 depending on the circumstances.  I assumed I would at least get the minimum reward.  Months went by.  Nothing happened.  At first I was disappointed and then I forgot about it.  One day the newly appointed security manager approached me and handed me an envelope.  I was so excited!  $50!  Woohoo! I opened the envelope and found a twenty dollar bill inside.  Later that day, I stole a pair of shoes.

Anyway….

Whenever I find a good deal on good shoes, I can’t resist.  It’s a compulsion, like squeezing the toothpaste tube from the bottom or living in Utah County and voting straight Republican.

Over the years, I’ve gone from a size 12 shoe to a size 15.  Until recently, I thought my feet were growing.  They were growing, but not the bones.  As my feet got fatter, I had to get bigger shoes. Now I have a lot of size 14 and 15 shoes that, like my old clothes, are loose and floppy.

Speaking of loose and floppy, I thought I had a lot of muscle in my arms and legs.  I knew I had a big belly.  I still have a belly even though I’ve lost seventy-plus pounds.  My arms and legs have extra skin now.  It looks great.  I look like a Shar-Pei.