Why Breaking My Flip Flop Was The Best Part Of My Life So Far (part 1)

September 18th, 2011.

A normal Sunday.

Except...

The Beginning

So at my church, there's a little girl named Allyson. And a praise band. And carpet.

Logically, the obvious progression of actions would be to start dancing.

(oh just stop, they're going to think you're strange)

Well, it's essential to know the basic background information. So as you can probably guess, the friction of the carpet is really a hindrance to my dancing. So much so that it actually broke my flip flop. Yes, I was the target of that sickening crack that only happens when a piece of rubber (crucial to the whole "shoe staying on the foot" thing) snaps, removing any potential for repair.

And I Was "Barefoot For Jesus" For Four Hours

I'll spare you the mentions of my bare feet by the parishioners ("Oh honey, I think you forgot to wear shoes today!", "Pastor, your daughter is running around with no protection on her feet!", "Weeeell, I think you ran right out of your shoes!", "Does Jesus approve?"), and we'll go ahead and fast forward to post-church.

Dad and I started speeding (not really speeding, metaphorically speeding, gosh, what are you, blog cops?!) down Bell road toward the mall where we were going to meet my mother for lunch, and keeping our eyes peeled for a Target (or some manufacturer of flip flops, it's not like Red Lobster was just going to let me in without shoes) whilst doing so. Luckily, we spotted an Old Navy near the restaurant (the same retailer where my flip flops were originally purchased)(which is also perfect since I discovered a $180 credit on our Old Navy card and was going to go shopping there later that day anyway), and so my father dropped me off in front of the store (so I wouldn't have to run across asphalt in bare feet, really, think about that!) so I could replace my beloved footwear.

(enough with the parentheses, get on with it, geez!)

Okay, okay. So I rushed in with all the intensity of an Olympic sprinter determined for the gold, and I realized this Old Navy is not the same set-up as the Old Navy stores I was used to. Sensing a serious situation forming, I found the nearest sales associate (a very energetic man named Bradley)(Bradley, if you ever read this, you're amazing!), and I pathetically related my woes. Essentially, "I... my... my flip flop broke... I need... help me... I can't find... where are your flip flops?!"

We're Getting To The Good Part

With an exasperated (yet mildly amused, I think), "Oh, honey!", I was led back to the flip flop shop, where I'm able to select the pair of sandals I so desperately needed. Quickly paying and thanking at the same time, I rush back out to the car.

Part II up soon! (That's right, this mother's a two-parter!)

Sorry about how long...

it's been taking me to update! I've been getting back into school, prepping for my friend's wedding, etc. Life is hectic, and definitely does not pause when you need it to! :O

I'll have new stories of spasticism (sp? it's a word now, k?) to relate to you soon!

Bear with me! :)


All my love,
Jordan