CHET: (VOICE OVER) This is the city; Flagstaff, Arizona. Flagstaff is a city not unlike other American cities. For the cultured, there are art museums and symphony orchestras. For the younger citizens, there are parks and playgrounds, good schools and movie matinees on Saturday. Retired folks can enjoy activities and socialize at several adult centers in and around the area. Those people that break the law can spend time at our newly remodeled and freshly painted city jail. No matter what life style these high-country denizens choose to follow, they all have one thing in common: shoes. That's were I come in. I carry a shoe-horn.
CHET: It was Saturday, July 3rd. It was warm in Flagstaff. I was working the first shift at Thom McAns. My partner is Bruce Knuckles (pronounced Kah-nuck-les). The store manager is Patrice Beard. Her dad built the mall. My name's Chet.
8:57 AM. We were drinking something hot and black and oily that might have been coffee. The first customer of the day walked in... Mrs. Guffman.
KNUCKLES: (WHISPERING) Sheeesh. She's already starting. I haven't even finished my coffee. What do think today Chet? Classic pump or designer sandal? (Knuckles snaps out a five dollar bill and lays it on the table. Chet does the same.)
CHET: Retro loafer or maybe, just maybe...the leather mule.
CHET: (VO) Mrs. Guffman had Zanotti tastes and a Thom McAn bankroll. Shoes to her were like a magic wand. A new pair would exit her from her daily drab existence into a world of make-believe cocktail parties and late evening trysts with Steve Zodiac look-a-likes in the deep end of the pool wearing goggles and a snorkel.
MRS. GUFFMAN: Oh young man! Excuse me, young man.
CHET: Ma'am.
MRS. GUFFMAN: Do you realize you're open sign says closed. I turned it around myself. How do you expect to sell shoes if no one knows you're open? It's like my late husband Bernard always said.
CHET: How's that ma'am?
MRS. GUFFMAN: Never wear anyone else's shoes. Your feet are of one design. No others like them. They're the only ones you have and they're not making them anymore.
CHET: Uh-huh. What would you like to try on today Mrs. Guffman?
MRS GUFFMAN: Well, let me see? I've got tickets to the symphony tonight and then of course followed by cocktails at the reception for maestro Troykovich.
KNUCKLES: (UNDER HIS BREATH) Tickets to the Roller Derby and a reception with a quart of King Cobra and the guy who sprays the shoes is more like it.
CHET: How about a nice white leather mule with a red ankle strap?
KNUCKLES: (ASIDE) To match the nice broken cappillaries in your nose and feet.
MRS. GUFFMAN: I'd like to start with a nice toed sandal. After all it is July.
CHET: Looks that way.
KNUCKLES: Yes! Sandal!
PATRICE:(GUSHING) Good morning Mrs. Guffman! Is Chet taking good care of my best customer? What are we looking for today Mrs. G? We just got in a shipment of beautiful gray suede slingbacks!
MRS. GUFFMAN: Oh yes! Chet! Chet darling, bring out a pair of the slingbacks also.
CHET: (HEADING BACK TO STOREROOM) Right. Slingbacks.
CHET: (VO) While I was shuffling boxes looking for the assorted styles requested by Mrs. Guffman something kept bothering me. Gnawing at me like that in-the-back-of-your-mind rat that chews on your toe when your foot sticks out of the bed covers at night. Like the chill you get when thinking about sliding down that 50 foot razor blade (see worst ways to die #14). Like that tingling you get in your gut when you visualize the trick with the tequila bottle and donkey you thought you saw in a Tijuana bar. Then it hit me. What size shoe am I looking for here?
CHET: (YELLING) What size today Mrs. Guffman?
MRS. GUFFMAN: Six in the slingback and a four in the sandal. And bring out the mules too! Ahh...better make that a six also. No. No, silly me what am I thinking? Make it a 5 1/2 Chet dear.
CHET: (VO) 10:30 AM. Knuckles and I broke for lunch early. Mrs. Guffman had decided on a faux red leather stiletto heel w/black heel strap and a matching handbag; a steal at $19.95. We landed at the Pup & Taco on Milton Road. They deep fry their corn dogs in Rex lard which is the way the foods gods intended it. We grabbed a corner seat by the window.
KNUCKLES: Chet, did you hear about the podman* over at the Payless on Figurora? He really fell for the old "touch and tell."
CHET: Hows that?
KNUCKLES: You know the set-up. Some bombshell walks in and wants to try on two or three different pairs but wants you to help her slip em on then all of sudden yells out that you were touching her leg. You know, stroking the calf, getting a little to friendly. Are you going to eat your fries?
CHET: Sure.
KNUCKLES: Yeh, and then the manager has to make nice with the broad and he ends up giving her the shoes for free and gift certificates that lasts her for months and fires the salesman to boot.
CHET: Uh-huh.
KNUCKLES: So what do you think Chet?
CHET: How's that?
KNUCKLES: Your fries Chet, your fries. Are you gonna eat them?
CHET: (VO) 11:30 AM. We arrived back at Thom McAns. The store was crowded with pre-fourth of July sale hunters.
11:35 AM.
She walked through the door. Every podmans dream. Judging from her heel-toe glide she was a perfect 6. Gold anklet looped over a clean ankle and the toenails painted a glossy cordovon. My guess was she still had her little toenail intact. She was wearing a brown open-toe designer retro pump . Pure class. Why was she shopping McAns?
CHET: How may I help you...
RENAE: Renae.
CHET: Renae.
RENAE: I'd like to start with maybe a nice leather kitten heel pump, rust or maybe green. Size 6. And let's look at a woven clog; open toe so my little piggies can breathe on these hot, hot summer days.
CHET: Yes ma'am...
RENAE: Renae
CHET: Renae
CHET: (VO) While I was fumbling through boxes in the back praying I could find the clogs and pumps, that old feeling started churning. It starts deep in your gut and then slowly works its way up your backbone like a thin, cold viper until it reaches your neck and then starts to feed on the miniture howler monkey sitting on your shoulder. I found the shoes and headed back to finalize the sale and maybe vitalize a date with Renae.
RENAE: Would you be a darling and help me with this pump. It needs a shoe horn.
CHET: (VO) I grabbed that beautiful ankle and started to work the pump on, manipulating it from toe to heel when it suddenly hit me like a bag of Doc Martens! I was being set up for the old touch and tell.
CHET: Easy does it sugar lips! I know exactly what's going on here. You walk into a shoe store and the temperature goes up 20 degrees from the steam blowing out from every podmans collar. You wiggle those beautiful toes and flash that gold plated twelve-link ankle bracelet like we're all some kind of hungry fish looking to take a bite. Well,
I'm not biting angel face. You may get away with your T&T scam at Payless but not here sister, not at McAns!
CHET: (VO) 12:02 AM. The sun was straight overhead and hot. I walked the four blocks to my apartment on the corner of Leroux and Aspen. It turns out Renae was Patrices' cousin and wasn't the T&T fraudulator. It only took Patrice about 10 minutes to finish filling out and processing my walking papers. Lost a job and a possible lady friend in one sitting. I hear they need a good podman at Payless.
*podman is a shoe salesman
Chet's Favorite Fast Food:
Corn Dogs at Pup and Taco (gone)
Long John Silvers Platter of Grease
Subway Seafood Sandwich on a 12"; heavy on the vitamin O
Dairy Queen Braizer Burger with a caramel marshmallow malt
A&W Poppa Burger (gone)
Arctic Circle Fries with fry sauce
Sonic Steak Sandwich and Tots w/cherry lime aide