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Gervase Teresa Caycedo

Backpackin' Blogger

I needed to perfect Spanish, fast, so I enrolled in a four-month teaching program sponsored by the U.N. English Opens Doors Program right after graduation, and bought a plane ticket to Chile. I decided to head to South America a month early and backpack while the U.N. was deciding where and what gra...

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Welcome to Foot locker

Today I walk into Foot Locker (an unusual store choice for me) and am greeted immediately by a young man who appears to be…oh about 18.

“WELCOME TO FOOT LOCKER!” he yells and immediately ducks down behind some shoes laughing to his buddy (who is maybe 19).

I am immediately not liking the shoes.

“Are your shoes comfortable?” he asks.

I am wearing my yellow moccasins…which I loooove. I think he may be making fun of me. I really don’t like this boy.

“Yeah they’re comfortable….they’re moccasins (duh). How bout yours?” (giant cheesy smile here)

“I’m not sure,” he replies

He bounds over the stack of shoes in front of him and is now feet away from me. (Because if I answered his sarcastic question with a sarcastic answer then I MUST be interested…men.)

“Are you married?”

I pause, turn and scan his face to make sure that he is, indeed, messing with me.

“No”

God I hate these shoes. Why the hell did I come in here?

“Do you wanna be?”

Another pause, while I give him a look that says, no you’re not making me uncomfortable, and no you’re not as funny as your accomplice over there believes you to be.

“No darling.”

It’s time for me to go.

Can’t a lady peruse a shoe rack anymore without having to explain to an 18-year-old idiot why she’s no.1 – not married, and no. 2 – would love very much NOT to marry him?