So it started as any other, alarm at 5:30am, on BART by 6:10, and in the city by 7:10a. But I hadn’t read the weather forecast, so I was unprepared. I had to FedEx overnight some documents that day, so I planned for a quick trip the 4 blocks to the FedEx office. As I exited the building, I was dismayed to find steady, heavy rain; not a downpour, but pretty darn wet. So I’m bounding down the sidewalk, dodging under overhangs and hugging the buildings whenever possible, zig zagging through cars while trotting against the “don’t walk” pedestrian signs. 2 blocks into my journey, something weird happened, and my left shoe went out of control. My foot was suddenly soaked. I looked down, and couldn’t believe my eyes. My shoe had “exploded”, and the front half of the soul was hanging off to the left. I found the nearest rain shelter under an overhang, and considered my options. After snapping a picture of my plight with my cell phone, I tried pushing the soul back under my shoe, and continued hobbling at half speed, using the now soaked FedEx box to keep my poor bald head somewhat dry. My suit coat was wet through to my shirt. I made it another block, and the front half of my soul departed my shoe altogether, so I picked it up and put it in the trash receptacle. I then noticed that my right shoe’s soul had also split completely across the ball of my foot, and was threatening to depart the shoe. I now was taking on water pretty heavily to starboard. I was stiff legging my left leg, as the shoe soul was very thick, and the ball of my foot rode about 1 inch off the ground, and I was trying not to bend the right shoe too much either. But the puddles were quite deep, and in short order I gave up on keeping my left foot from getting any wetter. The inner lining of the soul had departed my company too, so the ball of my foot and stocking were just plopping along on the rain drenched sidewalk. I made it into the FedEx store, and paid for the parcel. I thought about grabbing an empty FedEx envelope to use as an umbrella for my trek back. But in talking with the clerk about where I could buy some shoes, and in my haste to get to work, I forgot to grab an envelope. The rain spattered of my head. Now I’m half running with my left leg stiff to Embarcadero One, a 40+ story office complex with some exclusive stores on the 2nd level. I found the “Fly Away” men’s store, which had high end casual attire. I peered through the window, and the only shoe price tag I could see was $350. Hmmm, this is definitely not a payless shoe store. I hobbled two doors down to the only other store that looked like a possibility, a high end men’s shoe store, and walked in. I picked up 3 different pair of possibilities in varying shades of brown. The prices ranged from $580 to $630. Back at Fly Away, I walked in, greeted by the lone shop keeper, dressed in top of the line golf togs with a sweater around his shoulders, and a high end diamond watch on his wrist. I tried to act nonchalant as he sized me up and down, wearing my Ross’ Dress for Less slacks, 25 year old hearing bone brown blazer, and my foot sticking out the bottom of my shoe. He asked if he could help me, and I told him I was looking for some brown shoes. He said that he was eliminating all his stock, and only had a few pairs left, as the new high end shoe store 2 doors down had recently moved in. I asked what he had in a 9 ½ or 10. We had 2 to choose from, and I tried on the 9 ½’s; too small, then the 10’s; just right. I noted the $220 price tag in the bottom, but really wasn’t in a position to explore other options. I think he figured out my plight, because my soaking wet sock was peaking out from under the missing half sole of my left shoe. He offered to discount the shoes to $160, and I thanked him for his graciousness. We sealed the deal, and I bought the most expensive shoes I have ever owned. I thought about picking up a pair of $25 socks, but instead just kind of wrung out my left foot before putting on my new shoes. The store keeper continued his high end professionalism, asking if I would like him to put my old shoes into the empty box. I couldn’t believe he was able to keep a straight face, as you could see the carpet by looking in through the top of my old shoe. I smiled, and simply replied, “No. I think it’s ok if you just toss them.” “Very good, sir,” was his reply, sparing me a fragment of my dignity. We walked over to his desk, and I handed him my Chase card. He asked for my email address, saying that they like to support “green”, and email me my receipt. I gave him my local dhs.gov email address. He paused, then dead panned, “should I be worried, sir?” I smiled, and said, “No. I just work in the Federal building a couple of blocks from here.” Then I left his store, relishing the brisk walk on the wet sidewalks with somewhat dry feet. I was confident that from here, the day could only get better.