A couple of posts ago I was talking about taking my 2 favorite pairs of shoes to the cobbler to be resoled. Here is what ended up transpiring.
I was told to give it 10 days. No problem; they are fall/winter shoes and it was summer. I went back 2 weeks later and he told me that the guy he uses on the lower east side for the mid soles was on vacation and it was going to take a bit longer. Again, no problem. I went back about 2 weeks later and the gate was down and there was a hand written sign saying that he was on vacation for the month of August, with a return date just after Labor Day. Um, alright. So after Labor Day, every time I went by he was not open, causing me a little concern. I called the number on the sign and it just kept ringing, so that was no help. Finally toward the end of September I went to the Polish deli next door to his shop and asked if they had seen him. They said that they hadn't and that I wasn't the only one looking for their shoes. So then it's October and my favorite shoes are nowhere to be found. I walk past the shop one day and see that the gate is down and padlocked, there are multiple notes stuffed into the gate and the place is for rent. Are you freaking kidding me?? No phone number to call, no sign of the shoes, no nothing. My landlord told me that she heard that he may have moved to Florida.
This is the type of thing that makes me feel like I am living in Seinfeld's world. It reminds me of the time that Jamie and I ordered 2 cans of seltzer with our Mexican food delivery order and instead received 2 containers of salsa. Seriously.