Armadillos

Today my friend Amanda called and asked if I needed to go to Target. I said ok, since my shopping list was eclectic enough that it required an all-purpose store: vanilla extract, bathtub stopper, yoga pants, lamp, travel-size hair mousse... When she picked me up, she mentioned she had just heard an ad on the radio for Boot City, and that they were having a sale.

Boot City is your one-stop shop for all your cowboy boot needs, but since we are in West Texas, there is no need to include "Cowboy" in the name of the store. Since moving to Lubbock, I've been meaning to get some cowboy boots, but I haven't been able to find anything quite right. I have a great pair I got in Nashville a few years back (seen below - I'm on the left) but I've always wanted a black pair as well.

When we walked in, we found it a bit disorienting, but were soon directed to the clearance aisles. I had a hard time finding anything in my size, so when a salesman approached, I asked him "Do you know if there's anything in a 7?" He looked around a bit, and said "Well, I don't want to tell you we do, in case we don't. Then I'd be a liar." Conversations like this make me happy to live here.

A few minutes later, I started to try on a black pair, and a saleswoman approached and said "Oh, good. You found some armadillos." We looked at her in confusion. She then realized that she had mixed us up with some other customers, so she apologized. I said "No problem. What's an armadillo?" Turns out, armadillos are cowboy boots with patterned leather on the upper (the part that covers your foot, as opposed to the shaft, which covers your calf). I am always happy to learn new shoe terminology, so we thanked her for the tutorial. Not having found anything that suited me in clearance, I started to wander the rest of the store (which is how they get you, of course), whereupon I saw an object of beauty:

The carpet in this photograph is in my house, so it's clear that the boots and I have established a relationship. The display model was in my size, so I tried it on, then immediately searched for its mate (this is a store where the boxes are on the display shelves). We hunted high and low, but to no avail. I went and found the owner, a charming older gentleman in a large black hat, and said "I'm looking for the mate of this boot. It's beautiful, but I won't buy just one." The search was on, and finally he found it at the bottom of a stack. As I took them for a spin, they were a little tight in the toes, but I was assured that "If you're having trouble busting them out, bring them back and we'll stretch them for you." Busting them out? Awesome. Meanwhile, Amanda was trying on a lovely pair with brown uppers and a raspberry and indigo shaft, and found it impossible to leave without them. Another customer said "You girls are gonna have a hard time rolling your jeans down on top of those" (i.e. covering the shaft with your pant leg). I said "Are you kidding? I'm getting a dress!"

When I took my new friends up to the cash, the saleswoman exclaimed "Oh! You got armadillos after all!" I jokingly told her that I saw through her strategy of walking up to customers and "accidentally" planting the idea of the armadillo boot in their minds. She laughed and told her colleague, "See? I just psychoanalyzed her!" Now, that isn't exactly psychoanalysis, but then again, she's not entirely wrong, as I'm sure these boots do communicate a great deal about the unconscious mind of the wearer.