One weekend about three months ago, I limped into a medical meeting in Houston in my most expensive European shoes, outfitted with a heel pad and an insert, both of which had become of little value towards alleviating my pain. As I dragged myself past the booths displaying various technological exhibits, I noticed a booth with some funny-looking shoes, and an even funnier name: "Cra-Z-CoiL." To my surprise, I saw a number of physicians lined up in front of the booth waiting to try on those shoes. I decided to join the line, hoping the wait wouldn't be too long, since standing was becoming increasingly unbearable. When my turn came, I chose a pair of black sneakers. I stepped into them and I began to walk, and I walked, and walked, and walked, like a toddler fascinated with her first steps. I told my husband, "Please pay the lady and ask her to pack up my Mephistos; I am not getting out of these shoes!" And I haven't. The next day I bought my second pair, the black clogs, and I have not used any of my (many) other pairs of shoes since.
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