These Boots Weren't Made for Walking

Chapter One Ishould've known I'd lose my job after splurging on my first pair of Valentino boots. Actually, they were my first Valentino anything. I don't even own fake Valentino. My neighbor Monica has a fake Valentino purse, but my older sister has the real thingalong with an impressive variety of other authentic Valentino items. Callie tosses the Valentino name around with ease, as if she's on personal terms with the designer himself. And I suppose I'm slightly awed by this or perhaps just envious. Whatever the reason, I splurged awhile back, and now I'm fairly certain these boots will be my last Valentino of any kind. The truth is, I'd been eying those sleek brown beauties since late August. It figures that Martolli's of Seattle would put them in the front window while it was still ninety degrees outside. But ignoring the fact that my feet were hot and sweaty in my Anne Klein sandals, which weren't exactly cheap, I ate the bait. I immediately began to imagine how the exquisitely shaped four-inch heels would make me look taller, thinner, and more successful and might possibly even get me that promotion I'd been stealthily pursuing all summer. While other employees were sneaking in extra-long lunches, extended vacations, shortened days, and secret trysts in the copy room, I slaved. Please, do not get me going about the copy roomthose two sex maniacs, unlike me, are still gainfully employed. But back in August, I honestly believed those boots would be my ticket to happiness, a better love life, and a new and-improved position in our marketing firm, one of the biggest and best in Seattle. It just made sense. I must admit that I freaked over the price of those delectable bootsat first anyway. But then I rationalized, which I am quite good at, telling myself,Okay, you're thirty-one, Cassidy, and still depressingly single, but you've got a decent job in a top firm, and your credit is reasonably good, plus you did just give twenty bucks to the Make-A-Wish Foundation at Safeway last night. Seriously, don't you deserve those boots? Never mind that my checking account was a little on the skinny side; I knew I'd be getting paid in a couple of weeks. It wouldn't kill me to live on ramen noodles for a few days or even forgo my morning latte for a while. I mean, a girl's gotta make sacrifices sometimes. So when the saleswoman offered me that extra ten percent discount if I opened up a Martolli's account, well, it just seemed like fate. Those soft suede boots were as good as mine! "Why not?" I told the slightly gaunt brunette as I carefully filled out the detailed application, promising myself that I'd pay off the entire balance with my next check. I'd be broke for the rest of the month. But I do try to reserve my credit card for real emergencies or necessities or when I'm running low on cash or perhaps just desperate for a girls' night out before payday. And then I always try to pay off my cards promptly. Well, mostly anyway. No one's perfect. Having a sleek, gold credit card at Martolli's which caters to a certain clientele, is only located in truly cosmopolitan cities, and is the only designer store in Seattle that carries Valentinowell, it seemed an arrival of sorts. I felt very grown-up. I carried my large package home with a sense of real accomplishment, as if it were my personal trophy. Like a huntress who had tracked and stalked and finally bagged her prey, I walked victoriously down the street toward my apartment. But once I got inside my small studio, I was hit by a tidal wave of guilt. How could I possibly have spent that much money on a ridiculous pair of boots? MyCarlson, Melody is the author of 'These Boots Weren't Made for Walking ', published 2007 under ISBN 9781400073139 and ISBN 1400073138.