I crossed a line today.
Something like 17 years ago (am I that old?) I worked at an auto dealership in Anchorage. Our finance manager, who had one of the four coveted upstairs offices, was a fairly young guy, almost seemed too young for the lofty position he held. Over time I noticed that you could tell what day of the week it was by his clothes, and that if he wore a suit jacket, it was the same one. Either that or he had a closet full of the identical jacket, one for each day of the week. One day, the elbow tore, and I pointed it out to him. Next day, he was wearing the same jacket, with suede elbow patches. He commented that it had a lot of life left, so he had his wife fix it for him. I really thought he was a bit odd, since he obviously made quite a bit of money, why wear patched clothing? One day I had some paperwork for him--- as I came into his office his shoes were off, and I noticed that the insides of his shoes were lined with silver duct tape. That was really a bit much for me, and he went from thrifty to just plain weird in my estimation.
Fast forward 17 years. I had a pair of deck shoes that were perfectly comfortable, and were set to go at least a couple of years. Til the puppy ripped the insoles out and exposed the plastic honeycomb that composed the heels, that is. He also shredded the insoles and ate part of them, which he then threw back up. There was nothing to put back together, had I wanted to try. This morning I was looking for shoes and found them, remembered Todd, and grabbed the duct tape. You know, it's not half bad after all...I might even add a couple more layers for padding.
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