The Clarks Originals diaries
That elusive, eel-like, slippery customer that leaves you pining, wanton and full of regret. I'm talking of course about the time when you pursue a pair of Clarks Originals, only for your endeavor to bare no fruit. The ones that got away...
I was delighted to be greeted by an array of colourful offerings, an assortment of radiant footwear, a bouquet of resplendent shoes. It was beautiful, trouble was that after the afore mentioned night of revelry I had left myself with little money and couldn't possibly afford a brand new pair. But as I gazed around the shop I saw, on the sale rack a smart pair of tan leather desert boots at half price. I picked them up and tried them on, perfect fit.
With the excitement of Cinderella in her glass slippers I headed towards the till to purchase another addition to an ever growing collection. This is where events took a turn. I was at the till, standing eye to eye with the sales assistant. I reached into my pocket... No wallet. I frantically searched every pocket like an eager policeman looking for evidence. But nothing. It appeared that I had lost my wallet at some point during the previous night, I had lost my bank cards, my library card, my driving licence but in that instance none of that mattered, I couldn't buy the Clarks. Luckily I was able to collect my wallet from a police station as it had been handed in by the taxi driver who had found it in his car. However by then it was too late in the evening to return to the store. Deflated and flustered I had begun to accept that it wasn't to be, but like Albert Einstein with the atom I also had my eureka moment.
Perhaps in the Liverpool store if I were to explain my predicament they would be able to order them from the Manchester branch for me if they happened to still be available? So as soon as I could I hurried to the Liverpool store and explained what had happened. To my dismay I was turned away with an unsympathetic response of: "Sales are finished but you can buy them at full price." With my cage truly rattled I left the store but I still had one card left to play. I took it upon myself to call the Manchester branch, the lovely chap I spoke to also mentioned that the sale had finished but was happy to check the stock room for the boots. He found them, they had a pair in my size and for the same price. The only trouble was I would have to return to Manchester to buy them in person which was not possible at that time.
The next day my lovely lady friend (who is a Manchester native) reminded my that she had arranged to spend the evening with her friends in Manchester (which of course had slipped my mind) and was leaving that very afternoon. Straight away my optimistic instinct flared up "So... I suppose you could pass by the Clarks store for me?" It was all arranged, I was finally content, resting in that fact that she would return with the coveted boots. Amicably she paid no attention to the description of the gilded galoshes, I had to send a picture to make sure she picked up the right pair. She visited the store the next day, I imagine making it her last stop after casually browsing through every other shop in Manchester.
The version of events that I received was that she had 'narrowly' missed the last pair as they had just been shipped out to a regional store on the outskirts of Greater Manchester as is standard procedure with all of their unsold stock. I was distraught, a tiresome ordeal had rendered me barefooted. It was simply not to be, I have finally accepted it, although deep down I have the desire to venture out again. As long as I know that a pair still lies in obscurity somewhere amongst the village shops of a sleepy northern town.
David, TCC
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