Doing The Thing I Swore I’d Never Do
When I lived in Indy, I lived a whopping 7 minutes from work. It was, I thought, ideal: sleep in, go home for lunch, slip into your pajamas fifteen minutes after leaving work. I knew how good I had it, too, having commuted from Zionsville to downtown Indy for nearly a year (read: 60 miles a day roundtrip, five days a week, full tank of gas in a MINIVAN every four days). I swore I’d never live so far from work again.
Famous last words. I now commute from Hyde Park to the Loop, and although I’m thankful I don’t have to drive, it’s still quite a haul. Most days it takes about an hour: fifteen to twenty minute walk to the Metra, twenty minutes on the Metra, another fifteen minute walk to work. I walk nearly 3 1/2 miles a day, and I’ve decided it’s not all that different from driving. Everybody jostles on the street corners to try to be the first to cross, and you still find yourself behind a double-wide taking up all the lanes. The only difference is that when I’m on foot, I can’t scream and swear out loud at the trailer going 45 in a 70 (although those “Traffic Control Authority” people who prevent gridlock during rush hour? they will rip you a new one if you don’t walk fast enough. or, um, if you try to race across the street while the “Don’t Walk” sign is flashing). My road rage will soon become pedestrian rage if I’m not careful.
For the most part, I really enjoy the 3 1/2 miles of walking each day (although I damn well better be a size 2 by the end of the summer). The recent tropical humidity has been unpleasant, but I’m adjusting to the fact of showing up for work stinking like a marathoner. There is one thing I’m having a very hard time adjusting to: shoes.
I’ve long been bothered by the sight of women in expensive business suits, panty hose, white socks, and white tennis shoes. I’m no fashionista, and usually, when given the choice of comfort versus style, I’ll chose comfort. I blister at the mere thought of anything pinching my toes–I’ll even get blisters from flip flops if I try to walk in them for too long. I am not the girl who shows up for a Friday night out in cute pointy kitten heels. I point this out lest you think my motivations are the shallow ideals of Barbie dolls everywhere. Women who require comfortable footwear, I am on your side! But surely, surely, there has got to be something less egregious than white sneakers and a black skirt.
I recently purchased a pair of mint green Keens in an attempt to marry comfort and style. For the most part, it’s been good. Even when I bring a different pair of shoes to change into at work, I feel like the Keens are a lot less garish than white socks and sneakers. They do not invite distasteful glances from other pedestrians as I exit the Metra. But today… today I was that person.
I had to go somewhere during lunch that required me to look professional, which unfortunately is roughly equivalent to “wearing uncomfortable shoes.” Between that and the Vietnam-esque humidity, it made the most sense to take a cab. The cabbie asked if he could drop me off at Washington & Dearborn so that he wouldn’t have to “drive all the way around.” Assuming Dearborn was one-way, I figured he’d be dropping me off at the corner of the block I needed to go to. More like … three and a half blocks. Asshole.
By the time I limped back into the office after my appointment, my feet were bloodied stumps. I spent the rest of the day walking around in panty hose, not caring if I offended anyone on my tenth day on the job. I met a friend for drinks after work, trying to use Zen meditation to ignore the pain, still refusing to put on the Keens I’d brought with me “in case of emergency.” The Zen meditation thing? Doesn’t work for blisters.
I waited until I got off the 6 bus in Hyde Park before I stepped out of my “professional” black pumps and into the Keens. I was still wearing my panty hose and my nice dark gray skirt. I felt like a traitor to my own cause, skulking down 56th Street, hoping nobody would see my CASUAL SHOES with my business suit.
But damn if my feet didn’t feel good.
* * *
current music: Canasta! I just found out that one of my fellow copy editors is their keyboardist. I think I may have seriously alarmed him with my fanatacism.
current book: The Logic of a Rose: Chicago Stories by Billy Lombardo
current socks: see above. but yesterday I wore dark blue socks with light blue polka dots with my mint green Keens. never has there been such a beautiful combination of footwear. I kept gazing at my feet all day, really.
Posted 13 July 2006
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you wear black pumps? really?
and a business suit?
you really do have a real job in a real city…