The other day I was telling Paul that I wanted to get some new 'sneaks,' as the kids call them. I am usually a Van man myself, however, my last two pairs of Vans didn't hold up and they were starting to hurt my feet if I walked long distances (which happens more often than you would think). After explaining my woes to Paul he told me that I should get myself a pair of New Balance 991's, which are his sneaker of choice. Seemed like a good idea to me, so I did a little internet searching to see what the deal with these shoes was.
You know what I found out? Well, do you? Ok, I'll tell you.
Steve Jobs wears them.
With 2 titans of the computer industry (Steve and Paul) making this choice it seemed obvious that these were the sneakers for me. Saturday I set out to purchase a pair of 991's for my own. My first stop was City Sports. I wear a 12, they had 11's and 13's but they could order a pair for me.
Off I went in search of a store that would have them in stock. I went to a few Footlockers, and a few other stores, and met nothing but ridicule and rejection.
As I stood weeping openly in the streets of Philadelphia I recalled that Paul told me these were running shoes. I happened to know there was a newish running shop on Sansom and 16th called the Philadephia Runner. I high tailed it there to see what I could see.
I stepped into the shop and immediately felt out of place. I was surrounded by skinny people and spandex; I was uncomfortable. However, I pressed on and looked at their rather impressive shoe selection. I saw the object of my desire and was pawing the 991 on display when a mere slip of a woman said to me, 'Do you need help?'
I replied, 'I would like to see these in a 12.'
She scampered off to get me a pair to try on whilst I sat myself down on these green cube like seating things they had (at least I hope they were for seating). I watched some running folks stock up on running gear (whatever that may be) and waited.
At this point I should mention that I was wearing normal Scott garb: shorts, Hawaiian shirt, and Vans. In addition to my dress I out weighed everyone in the store by at least 180 pounds (in fact I think one Scott equalled 4 of the girl that was helping me).
The girl came out with the box, opened it for me and handed me a shoe. She asked me, 'Have you tried these on before?' Which I thought was a little odd, but I said, 'No, I'm just looking for a good walking shoe. I don't run.'
Now, I thought pointing out the rather obvious fact that I don't run was funny. Apparently I was the only one because while she didn't roll her eyes, she wanted to. So I laughed nervously and laced up the other shoe. I got up walked around the store a little (resisting the temptation to run in place for a few seconds) and decided that these shoes were good.
And that's the story of how Scott came to wear running shoes.