Croc-a-doodle-doo! Rise and shine! It’s the weekend and the Croc Outlet is having a sale! It’s going to be wild. It’s going to be crazy. Prepare for madness and mayhem, for pushing and shoving, for long queues of surly, brooding, Croc-loving people and for tempers getting lost — along with one half of that pair of Crocs that you really want — somewhere between the perfect shoe in the wrong size and the wrong shoe in the perfect colour.
Crocs is popularly known to be the shoe of comfort, but also the shoe of bright, funny colours and weird, bulky designs…
I used to look in wonderment at people who donned these grotesque-looking, laughable excuses for shoes, and I couldn’t fathom that they would wear them in public, regardless of the supposed comfort. But lately, I’ve noticed that there are more ‘stylish’ designs in these oh-so-comfortable-but-oh-so-hideous-looking shoes. Friends and family have sung its praises to me, convincing me of its comfort and benefits, and they’ve shown me the beauties among the beasts, and this was life-altering to me: I now found myself wanting a pair of Crocs. But not the big, colourful ones that could stop traffic — I’m not that Croc-crazy.
So, anyway, as we all know, anything of true comfort and quality comes at a pretty high price, and just because you’re a funny-looking shoe it doesn’t mean you get priced any differently. So, naturally, being a student who only works part-time, and therefore, only gets part of what one would call an actual salary, I couldn’t afford to buy myself a pair of these longed-for Crocs. Or so I thought…
For a few days now, word about town has been that there is a little Croc Outlet shop in Access Park, Kenilworth, and they’re having a sale. Their shoes have been priced ridiculously low, so that even I could afford it. So bright and early on Saturday morning, mother, sister and I went on our merry little way to get ourselves some Crocs. At 08: 50, we were early, since the store only opened at 09:00. Our plan was to be there early, get in, get what we want, and get out. We didn’t quite expect that that was the plan of twenty or thirty other Croc-loving people too. By the time we got there, there was already a line of people waiting at the door, already with their ‘sale’ faces on. As I stood waiting in the line, I thought: This isn’t going to be pleasant. But lo and behold! This particular sale experience was not what I had expected; in fact, it was quite the opposite. The most noteworthy occurrence for me was finding the perfect shoe, in just the right colour… but I only had one half of a pair. I held on to that one half though, refusing to give up on finding its partner. I kept looking all around the shop, squeezing in between the flood of people, darting my eyes to every corner of the shop, but alas, it was not to be found. Eventually, I resigned myself to give up on looking and went to stand in the queue that snaked along the entire length and breadth of the shop — but I still kept that one shoe with me. If you know nothing else about me, know this: I am an eternal optimist.
Standing behind me in the queue came a woman who looked none too happy to be there, and she didn’t look too keen on making small talk either. But hey, you know what they say about the covers of books, right? And the same goes for a surly-looking woman standing behind you in a long queue — don’t judge her. She might just be the one who finds that other half of a pair of shoes that you’ve been holding on to for about an hour now. And yes, she was indeed the one who found it — hiding inside a massive display Croc that was resting atop a shoe rack. When standing in a queue with someone for as long as we had been, you get to know some things about them, like that she was looking for the other half of her one half of a pair of shoes as well (I overheard her asking the sales assistant if he could find it for her), at which point I took the liberty to share with her that I, too, was in the same situation — and this is where our beautiful relationship started, and I discovered that I had judged her wrongly.
In the end, I had been schooled in people’s goodness and in the right way to do sale shopping. It’s not to fight and push people aside so that you may reach that pair of shoes before they do; it’s to be civil, polite and calm in the face of what could get chaotic.
At the end of all this, I realised that I had not only been schooled in shopping, but rather, in life. The woman standing behind me didn’t choose to be nasty by refraining from giving the missing shoe to me. No, she helped me, even though she had no reason to. And more than that, a gentleman standing in front of me also eventually heard that the woman behind me was missing a shoe, and without previously having engaged in any conversation with her at all, he proceeded to look around him at the random shoes scattered on the floor, in the hope that one of them might be the missing shoe. And such should be how we conduct ourselves and how we interact with others in life; if we know someone needs some help, and if we are able to, we should do what we can to help. It takes nothing away from us or our own successes in life to help others succeed. In fact, it may even contribute to our success, maybe not the material kind of success defined by our worldly achievements, but the kind of success that defines us. It defines who we are, and it defines our path in life. And all this, just from shopping for a pair of Crocs!