We all know I’m spoiled. And every once in awhile, we HAVE to go shoppin’ for things for Roy. It’s usually an ordeal.
Roy’s not an easy person to shop for… ever. And he wanted boots. The last time we boot shopped for him we were in 2 states and 6 towns and 8 western stores before we found a pair to his likin’! Back when he was in law enforcement, he wanted a certain boot. Black. Tall shafts. No fancy stitchin’ on the toe. The only boot that is made that way is Nocona! The Only Place that handles those is Drysdales! Once, they didn’t have them… OMG!! I thought the sky was fallin’!
Now, he can have any boot in the store, in any color. ANY COLOR!
Did I mention that when I married Roy he only had 2 pair of shoes? 2! A pair of Nocona Trooper boots and a pair of tennis shoes!
Well I had to fix that! He now has flip flops, 2 pair of tennis shoes, 1 pair of Nocona Trooper boots, Biker boots, 1 pair of huntin’ boots, lace up ropers, and 3 pair of work boots.
Anyway, I have to shop with Roy for Roy… it’s not always fun.
That means a trip to Atwood's. I love Atwood's about as much as Love the Academy! Can you see my eyes roll? Hate it!! Roy hears the music in these stores that I never will get… I can’t get over the smell. There were meat smokers, gun safes, salt blocks… ick!
So as we’re lookin’ over the dress boots… brown and not black, Roy heard the music. The clouds parted, the sun shone down on the boots he wanted! Little cherubs flew around playin’ the music on a pair of steel toes John Deere work boots! Roy was so excited that he instantly pulled off his own boot to try on the displayed boot.
“Dude! It’s an 8!” I told him. He was so excited he didn’t even look to see it was his size. Damn cherubs! Had he befuddled!!
I pulled out the box with his size and proceeded to pull it on… come Hell or High Water he was puttin’ that damn boot on! There was no seat for him so he stooped over and hopped and puffed and struggled to get it on… it was his bad foot. That broken ankle with all the hardware in it, isn’t as flexible as the other ankle. So he puffed and pulled. And he his finally slipped in, we both were relieved! And laughin’!
He said, “We’re gonna hafta buy this pair becuz I can’t take it off!” He put the other boot on and I put his boots in the John Deere box. And then we hunted for belts.
When it came time to check out, the tag had to be taken off so he didn’t set off the alarm. The clerk told to put his foot on the counter and she clicked the top off. The back was still in the boot… we all laughed about her feelin’ up my hubby’s leg to retrieve the back of the tag thingy… Made her day!
Good thing he didn’t wear the belt outta the store! That would have interestin’ to watch!
And for the first time in 16 years, I actually enjoyed boot shoppin’. 1 town, 3 stores.
The boots I bought for myself… have to go back to the store… Damn fat calves!