Temporarily Out

There is a strange phenomenon that happens in our family on a regular basis. When the Hula-gen’s go to restaurants everyone gets what he orders. Except Hula. It doesn’t matter where I go or what I order, they are out of that particular item. It happens so often that we’ve come to expect it. It doesn’t happen to anyone else in the family. Ever. Just me. It’s a conspiracy. I’m the grassy knoll of eating out.

It’s not like I order weird stuff, either. It’s usually something fairly common. Like dumplin’s at Cracker Barrel. Last time I wanted ‘em? Temporarily out. Which is kind of like McDonald’s not having any French fries. The chicken and rice special? Nope. All gone. I’ve ordered something as simple as unsweetened tea and been told they were out of it. Tea, for Pete’s sake. Just the other day Hubby and I drove to a small town about two hours south of here to look at swimming pools and stopped at a decidedly empty restaurant touting its new citrus rice. I ordered the rice and actually thought I’d gotten lucky because the server cheerfully said thanks and turned in our order. Two pieces of buttered bread and fifteen minutes later she came back to tell me they had no citrus rice. Hubby and I laughed out loud and had to explain the humor of the situation to server Adele who had very little humor I must say.

We spend a lot of time explaining our giggles to servers because of how often this situation happens. We usually go around the table giving our orders with me near the end of the line. When the server kindly tells me they don’t have whatever it is I ordered, I usually say, “Of course you don’t,” and then we all erupt in big chuckles. On several occasions I’ve texted Teen Angel from miles away to share the moment. “At Perkins in Dyersburg. No rice.” “Cracker Barrel says no soup for me!” And her BFF usually laughs too because she knows the drill. For whatever reason, it’s just my lot in life to do without my first choice. That’s why I was not surprised when I couldn’t find the shoes I wanted last week.

For the past year and a half I’ve been wearing the cutest pair of slip on Sketchers on the weekends. They are white biker flats that are cute, cute, cute and can be worn with socks or without.

Photo courtesy: www.sketchers.com

They are comfortable and work with shorts, jeans or ratty yoga pants. They are the perfect tennis shoe to knock around in, and had I known how much I was going to like them I would have bought more than one pair. I have worn those suckers out and should have replaced them a long time ago. I was forced to deal with the issue after that unfortunate smelly feet incident at the gynecologist’s office recently. A trip to the mall turned up the same shoe in brown, gray and black, but not white. I went to every shoe store in the town but couldn’t find the white ones. No problem, I thought. I’ll just get online and order them. Not so fast Kemosabe.

I went to the Sketchers website and found the same exact style, and they were in stock, except for a couple of sizes, including mine. I went to another website. Same problem. Every size, but mine. In fact, I went to about a dozen websites. I spent forty-five minutes online searching outlets all over the country and I found plenty of shoes in all the other sizes. But not mine. Apparently, everyone with size seven feet wanted Sketcher biker flats in recent weeks. As Ralphie in A Christmas Story says, “Skunked again.” (As of today they are out of all sizes except for a 9 1/2. ) I finally signed up for an email notification from Sketcher for the date upon which they are available again. And then I proceeded to wash those stinkin’ shoes yet again. They’re on a weekly wash schedule now. I can’t bear to throw them away, although when I pulled them off last night and got a whiff of my feet I made a mental note not to remove them under any circumstances in the presence of other people from now on.

I can’t bear to give them up just yet, so I’ll hang in there a little longer and hope the folks at Sketcher stock up on them soon. In the meantime, if you’re out and about and see Straightaway white biker flat #21552 in a size seven, pick up a pair and ship them my way. I’ll reimburse you for the shoes and the shipping. I’d be forever grateful and anoint you as my new best friend. And while you’re at it, could you pick me up some dumplin’s at Cracker Barrel, too?