Wednesday, January 21, 2004

New Shoes

I actually didn't have a hole in both of my shoes. There was a hole is one shoe's sole. As opposed to the hole in my soul. I fixed the latter sole's problem with a new pair of shoes which I almost forgot to buy.

I had just sat down to start doing nothing for lunch and I glanced down and remembered I was wearing my Timberland boots. They're a type of hiking boot which I can get away with at work because there is a chance I might be in the field, on a job site, so my footwear is supposed to be OSHA approved for construction sites. I wasn't going out in the field today. It was too cold but If anybody said anything that was my ready made excuse.

Anyway, I get to going to the shoe store and start thinking about the tourists that tend to be about. I'm thinking why don't more locals make the foreigners more welcome. To me tourists are less money I have to pay in state taxes and I like being kind to strangers (those I familiar with, I'm not always kind to). Anyway, I come across three young ladies looking at one of maps the city puts up here and there. They look a little confused so I keep my eye on them to see if they want help. Before I have to asked if I can try to be of help one of them starts with the questions.

young lady: "Are you from here?"
me: (I smiled) and said "Yes, I am" I smiled because my friendly charmed worked.
young lady: "Do you know where the Boston Massacre site is?"
me:"Yes, I do. And you are very close"

I then point to the location which would be visible from where we were if it were not for the fact that the site, the site of an incident that reportedly brought about the American Revolution, that won America it's freedom from the British Empire, is no more that an obscure four and a half foot circle of cobblestones on a beat down traffic island which has no walkway leading to it. You have to jay walk, through Bostonian traffic, to get to the site. Wonderful. Anyway, they tell me they probably passed right over it and I agreed and let then know there is even a plaque next to some newspaper boxes across the street from the site to memorialize the occasion.

Then one of the young lady's friends asks about Faneuil Hall which was right over my left shoulder at the time. I was going to offer them a guided tour and probably would have if our ages were closer. But I had shoes to buy, or else I would have to choose my clothes with what would match my limited, available, no holes footwear.

The shoe store I was going to was on the way back to the massacre site so I made certain they found it. Then I went on my way.

The other parts of my day involved neating up my cube.

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