Sport Shop Stories: The Shoes That Got Away.

We come to the second edition of Sport Shop Stories and this one was…well…fantastic for the neutral. But being involved was rather awkward.

The story begins on one Saturday when my manager sold a pair of shoes to this man, who he said was AT THE TIME a nice guy, no problems, just needed a standard pair of trainers.  He proceeded to try on some, seemed convinced by the shoes quality and fit and went on to the counter to purchase the shoes.

Now this is where you have to pay attention.

He bought the shoes, but asked my manager to keep the shoe box as he was going to wear them straight away. This, for anyone that doesn’t shop for shoes much, is a dangerous step to take (see what I did there?). At this stage, as that box will immediately be destroyed and taken off to recycling, which means if he fancies bringing them back, well, we won’t be able to sell it as the box is long gone. So, if you haven’t worked out what is going to happen next, well you just haven’t been paying attention, have you.

I rock up Monday morning, likely hungover and frustrated due to the lack of knowledge I have after part-taking in a pub quiz the night before, but content that I have a fairly sub-standard day of work ahead of me.  Manager and I discuss how brilliant our weekends were over a nice cup of tea and so far, all is well.

I can’t remember exactly whether he was the first customer of the day, but he was certainly an early bird, but was clearly in no mood to catch any worms. Of course, I haven’t met this man yet, so I am understandably composed and ready for selling, as is my manager. Let the conversation commence:

Manager: Can I help sir?

Shoe man: Yes, I’d like to return these shoes?

The tone of my managers voice changes. He doesn’t like returns, neither do I, it makes us look rubbish. When the takings of the day kick off with negative figures, generally not a good start, is it?

Manager: May I ask why?

Shoe man: (Epic pause, like really long, probably a sigh in there as well, for effect) Well they’re slightly too big.

Too big? A little bit odd, mostly you’ll get returns for a shoe being too small which is fair enough because no one wants broken toenails, too big is rare, but I’ll accept it at this point.

Manager: Have you got the box to go with them?

Shoe man: No I left it to you.

AWKWARDNESS then occurs. My manager and I know we can’t refund these shoes and he looks pissed off enough as it is. This is when my involvement mixes things up.

Me: Have you got your receipt?

Then, Vesuvius erupted. His face turned to me as if I’d just said “Your wife was really good in bed last night. Might pop back again tonight if you’re out?”

Harold Shoeman: (In an angry tone) Don’t be so bloody cheeky!

He is right. I mean what kind of outrageous question is that to ask a customer, whether he has a receipt or not, the mind really boggles. My face was probably similar to the first time I saw Inception at the cinema. Not really one of fear, but more complete confusion as to what was going on in front of me. Any composure I had when first meeting this man had vanished in the blink of an eye, I was in a different world. My manager on the other hand was equally as shocked, but was somehow prepared for the situation.

Manager: What’s cheeky about that? He doesn’t know who you are; you could’ve walked in with any pair of shoes without a box from another shop.

It’s lucky my manager has balls; I was still in another world. Of course my manager decides now is the time to drop the massive bomb, while he’s riled-up.

Manager: Besides, without a box we can’t re-sell these shoes.

AWKWARDNESS then occurs. Followed by a full blown argument between the two, in which Harold called me “rude” and “cheeky” several times. I manage to wake up and get away from the other world I temporarily got lost in, not because my map skills are terrible (which they are), more because I’d rather be lost in another world than the ridiculous one in the shop. I sneakily broke away from the conversation and into the back, because I had to laugh at this point. I felt if I did it in front of Shoeman, I’d be living up to the label he had just given me and I did want him to be right about that, did I?

Harold Shoeman: (Post-argument) I demand you speak to your manager at the bigger store!

Manager: I will (But only because he wants to tell him about the ridiculous customer we have in our shop)

While this discussion is happening, which my manager obviously takes to the back so he can give our other manager the full picture of how much of a $?!$&*(@@:>>@:@@::@ this guy really is, I am left with Shoeman.

AWKWARDNESS COULD NOT OCCUR MORE, no words are spoken, I don’t even look at him, I pretend I’m doing something on the till computer which is really important, but I’m just constantly checking how much money we have done in the day, which given he is one of the first customers, isn’t a lot. It was a shame I didn’t have a beard to scratch, I’d shaved the day before, not that my beard is normally epic enough to scratch, but it would have killed at least 15-20 seconds. Shame I couldn’t go back to my other world, it was a much simpler place.

My manager returns, with these simple words.

Manager:  I’m sorry…

Harold: (Interupts) Right that’s it! I’m going to go to the bank and sort this myself.

Manager: Um… I don’t think you can…

Harold: I will stop this transaction, this is ridiculous!

He was right, this was ridiculous. I was tempted to wait until he was far enough away from the shop, then run to the bank and warn them of the horror that is Shoeman. I mean I wasn’t at my fittest at this point but I would’ve been confident that I could out-run a man with no shoes. The even more ridiculous thing was that he left us with the shoes, before storming out of the shop. The shoes that have now been sitting in a bag behind the counter now for well over half a year and whenever I look at them, I am reminded of the day this happened. That is the only thing I shall thank him for, because he was a right %^*):>@?:@.

 
Just for the record, I don’t think his name was actually Harold Shoeman. If it was that would be incredible. Oh and he wasn’t successful in his mission to stop the transaction either. Bad day at the office you could say, but in this case, he was in a Sport Shop.