The New Blue

I went in search of red flats. I love the ruby slippers I wore yesterday but the flimsy soles are starting to fall apart. The fluffy flower over the toe beginning to look a bit ragged. So I walked to Nordstrom Rack, climbed the stairs and began a focused search for something pretty.

I found peep toes I liked but they were too small. The ones in my size were beige and I frowned at the left shoe thoughtfully before replacing it on the shelf and continuing to glance at and discard shoes as I walked slowly up and down aisles of 8s.

"You are pretty," I told a pair of black flats softly, admiring shiny, perfect bows perched above the pointy toe. I took the left shoe and tried it on, made a face of indecision and replaced them too. "Oh," I sighed when I saw the same shoe in blue. "I will have you."

I have been working so my stories are classified. But the work went well - I presented yesterday and supervised a demonstration. I took calls early this morning and attended meetings after breakfast, talking to men I enjoy and respect about topics of professional interest. Then, having checked out of my hotel, I pouted over not being able to nap and comforted myself with a walk to see the library, riding endless escalators to reach the highest public viewing point and making myself a bit dizzy in the process (I do not like heights. Even when they come with interesting views.)

"Little sick now," I murmured after peeking over an edge, knees trembling and throat tightening as my poor brain went all dizzy. I jabbed the elevator button and waited impatiently for it to arrive, joining a family with incessantly complaining children for the ride down to the first floor and out into the fresh air that cleared my head and settled my stomach. I had lunch on the waterfront after buying a book and returned to work in the afternoon, more to pass the time than from any real motivation.

Thrilled was I when I happened across interesting sessions that exactly matched a topic I'm trying to learn. Sans notebook - given to the bellman at the hotel to store for me - I tore pages from my novel and scrawled notes on the acknowledgments and dedication pages of a romance novel.

"Hello, beauty," a slender man with a melodic voice offered with a slow look in my direction when I crossed the street on the way back to the hotel to fetch my things and depart for the airport. I raised an eyebrow at him and offered a brief hi before returning my full attention to the sign across the street, willing the white man to appear so I could cross.

"You're gorgeous," he said and I snorted before rolling my eyes. I would have smiled over 'your shoes are adorable,' agreed if he complimented the paisley butterfly pattern on my new blue dress. I would have even taken 'I like your messy ponytail.' But gorgeous? No. Not even perfectly dressed and fully made-up. And as my face had flushed from my brisk walk up a hill and I'd not freshened my foundation for a good 7 hours and my lip gloss had even worn off, I rolled my eyes at him and wondered what he wanted before deciding I didn't care.

"Are you busy now?" he asked, trailing along behind me as I crossed the street and I answered that I was.

"Are you married or something?" he tried again and I lied without hesitation, confirming that I was. My shoulders sagged with relief when he finally fell back from the conversation and I scampered up the steps to my hotel. The street happenings in Seattle confuse and upset me.

But with my bag full of stuff and shoes full of feet, I fly east just before midnight and will arrive back at my home airport - to be met by my mother - tomorrow morning. At which time I will sleep. And sleep. And prepare to travel again next week.