I've previously detailed the unwholesome odor resulting from spilt baby formula in one's footwear. Well, little did I know the ramifications would spiral further out into the realm of public embarrassment.
Travelling through airports with wife Lovely and daughter Colicky is a somewhat more involved operation than flying as a single business traveler. The stroller and infant seat complications alone are tricky, but if you combine those with some cheapness and procrastination (on my part) then you get the following scenario.
Background: Aside from the ruined loafers that smelt of death, I owned two different pairs of leather boatshoes. Unfortunately, each pair had developed a single hole in only one of the shoes. So, resourceful guy that I am, I decided to combine the two intact shoes from each similar (but not identical) pair so that I could form one, wearable, holeless pair. That is, I took the good right shoe from one pair and the good left from another and wore them both together even though they weren't a perfect match. Thrifty, huh? And I did this for weeks and no one was any the wiser.
Fast forward to Louis Armstrong Int'l Airport security checkpoint. After emptying pockets and putting the bags and stroller on the x-ray conveyor-- all while holding Colicky-- I was told to send my belt and shoes through too. Somehow I managed all that with one hand, and proceeded to walk through the metal detector carrying Colicky. No alarm bells rang, but the security person behind the x-ray monitor started yelling frantically. "We got one shiv! We got one shiv!"
What the hell is she screaming about, I thought. My mind scrambled for answers: Did I pack a crude prison knife? Did someone slip me one? Is there a Hindu artifact amongst my undies? What's happening?!
Nearby security personnel were gathering around the yeller's monitor.
"Come see! One shiv! Only one shiv!"
Interrogation room images were flashing through my mind, and I briefly considered fleeing down the terminal; stiff-arming cops with one arm, carrying Colicky like a football in the other. Then I figured out that one of my shoes had a metal support in the heel while the other was apparently "shiv-less". Every nearby security person had come to look at the monitor. Many pointed and laughed. I smiled weakly and tried to explain to the gathered personnel, "You see, I had two different shoes with holes, but two were ok, so I thought..." But that only seemed funnier to the crew.
Much less jovial was Lovely, who demanded a detailed explanation for the ruckus. While I tried my best, she just looked at me with a curious expression, as if I recently arrived from the planet Nerdus or something.
There's no grand lesson here. Just, whatever you do, don't let baby formula ferment in your loafers. It'll lead to trouble in River City.
Friday, November 26, 2004
When the other shoe drops
2 comments
DiggIt!
Del.icio.us
2 Comments:
I am looking everywhere for bass shoes and bass shoes, while doing so I somehow stumbled onto your bass shoes blog. I am happy to say I learned something and will look into this further...
Thanks for the great posts...
jon
nike air max 90
nike air max 95
nike shoes
nike air
nike air shoes
nike air max tn
nike air rift
nike shox r4
sports shoes
nike air rifts
nike air rift trainer
nike air max 360
nike shox nz
puma cat
air max trainers
mens nike air max
nike air
puma mens shoes
puma shoes
puma speed
nike shoes air max
nike shoes shox
air shoes
Lucyliu IS Lucyliu
nike shoe cart
puma future
levis jeans
nike rift shoes
cheap nike air rifts
bape shoes
cheap puma
nike rift
jeans shop
diesel jeans