Monday, March 21, 2011

I've Been Pressured by the Shoe Repairman to Have Children























Now that we're settled into the new pad, I'm feeling pretty darn fantastic. We have so much more space and no horrendous upstairs neighbor to drive us completely out of our minds. Even though I had to run a crazy number of errands on Saturday, and John had to work, I still relished our weekend. It was AWESOME for so many reasons.

Only one thing has been bothering me about it - and that would be the shoe repair ordeal. One of my errands on Saturday was to get my favorite pair of black platform heels repaired. I adore them and wear them INCESSANTLY, and likewise, managed to do quite a number on them. So, off to the shoe repair I went.

This nice, polite asian man named Lee runs the place, and I've been there before. He does great work - and I was excited to leave my precious pumps in his hands to restore them to their fabulousness. The first time I was there, the process was quite simple. Here are my shoes. They need help. Please fix them. And he did. Simple. Inexpensive. Well-done.

NOT SO THIS TIME! He started interrogating me about my life. It started with the fact that we both share the same name: Leigh, although his is Lee. He wrote Lee on my little receipt and was talking about how there are so many people with the name Lee... not just asians either... people everywhere. And yes, he's right. Lee is a very common name across the board - Actually, I have lamented about the fact that it's a common first, middle AND last name... and seems to be very popular amongst very unpopular people like murderers: Lee Harvey Oswald, Henry Lee Lucas, Derrick Todd Lee, Robert Lee Yates, Daniel Lee Siebert... the list goes on. So, one might understand my predilection towards pointing out that yes, my name is Lee, but it's actually spelled Leigh. And since this guy has the THICKEST accent I think I've ever heard in my life, I decided to point that distinction out by showing him my drivers license.

NEVER DO THIS!

He examined it in detail, noting my age, (34), along with the spelling. I then SAW HIM glance at my left hand, where he noted that I was married. Then he said, "You have kids?" I said, "No... not yet, and maybe not ever." He said, "How old husband?" I said, "40." He said, "Oh. You no wait too long." That was the last part I actually understood. I am NOT exaggerating when I say that he continued to talk about this for another 10 minutes, during which I just kept nodding my head because I seriously didn't understand almost anything he was saying. I knew he was still on the topic of kids - and he even touched on adopting from China, but that was pretty much it. At some point, I had to take my keys out of my purse and slightly turn towards the door to indicate that I wanted to leave.

He is a sweet, sweet man - but I don't want my local shoe repairman, no matter how sweet, stressing me out about if and/or when to have children. Is there no escaping this nonsense?!?!?!?

Perhaps the above sign would be appropriate for Lee as well.

Ugh.

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