This summer, my brother sold shoes to old people.

Every night at dinner, he would come home and tell my family stories about the nightmarish feet and troublesome customers.

“Do you sell Nike?” asked one lady, picking up a pair of shoes.

“We don’t carry Nike, but we have New Balance. I assure you they feel even better,” he said, eager to make a sale.

“How much are they?” the lady asked, picking up the shoe. She immediately jerked her head back, as if the price sticker had slapped her in the face.

My brother talked her into trying a pair on, and she ended up buying them. But the next day, she came back.

“I’m returning the shoes. I wore them all day and I loved them! So I’ll come back when they’re on sale.”

I laughed at the crazy lady. Then I laughed at my brother. But I should have been laughing at myself, too.

Looking back, I realize I’m actually quite similar to that woman and my brother’s numerous other quirky customers … and in more ways than just smelly feet.

Though I don’t buy old-people shoes, I do love shoes. Even a rumor that Steve Madden boots are on sale will send me to the front of the line. After all, they could easily cost me a whopping $100. Three digits! I’ve got to wait for a sale!

If I miraculously decide to try on the outrageously-priced shoes, then the poor salesman must risk spending time with a customer like me who will most likely not make a purchase.

Salespeople have to shuffle to bring us our shoe sizes, including the pairs that are a half size smaller and a half size larger just to make sure one size fits more comfortably.
Politely, they cater to our whims until we are satisfied. And even then, we may decide to wait for a sale or have some other absurd reason not to make a purchase.

Am I being ridiculously irrational? Yes. But I bet you could be too.

Many of us, including myself, are deranged shoppers, but we should all remember that salespeople have feelings. They’re not robots to tell us our shoe sizes and hold our feet. Salespeople have jobs and families just like us.

Even though their jobs require them to listen to us complain about ankle aches and nasty foot fungus, don’t take that opportunity to unleash your inner wild shopper.

So, next time you go shopping, wear socks. Let’s hide our repulsive foot fungus from the world. Not that I have any.