we interrupt all discussion of the war for much more devastating breaking news.

there has been a disturbance in the world of shoes.

my shoe store was robbed.

robbed!

last thursday began as any ordinary thursday. i had assumed my normal work position, sprawled across my favorite chair. finding the store in perfect order, i immediately set out to perform my usual list of work duties, which this day included memorizing 45 spanish verbs and giving myself a pedicure. seven toenails into my important task, i was rudely interrupted by our first customer of the day. she was a young woman, very casually dressed, carrying an armload of shopping bags. she quickly selected three sandals and requested her size. after a great deal of rummaging downstairs, i emerged with her shoes and began unboxing them for her to sample.

i was a bit thrown when she assured me that the shoes would be a perfect fit and she would not need to try them on. as any woman will tell you, the highlight of a trip to the shoe store is the enormous amount of indecision involved. one cannot simply go in, select a shoe, and purchase. the shoe must be examined from all angles, fitted with a variety of sock selections, and then pranced about in around the store, where they may be examined in each and every one of the mirrors.

but no. this woman was in an extreme hurry to buy and leave. worried at the mental condition of anyone who would chose to forego the pleasures of shoe sampling, i decided to take a closer look at this customer. when she presented me with her credit card, i requested her ID. apologetically telling me that her ID was in her car, she produced multiple other cards bearing the same name and signature. because this is oklahoma, and because i am somewhat overly trusting of strangers (ok, naive) i decided to accept her credit card sans oklahoma ID. so the purchase was made, and the young lady departed our store. though i was left with a somewhat uneasy feeling, i returned to my pedicure and all was soon forgotten.

until two days later. just as i was about to depart from my sorority house for a spanish quiz, the phone rang. it was my coworker, calling to inform me that my unorthodox customer had been toting a stolen credit card around campus corner that afternoon. she told me that "the norman police wanted me for questioning." though this phrase nearly produced a panic attack, i called the norman police department. thankfully, i remembered the woman completely. i gave a detailed physical description to the officer and hung up the phone feeling satisfied that i had done my civic duty.

but wait, there's more.

two days later, i received another phone call. it was my favorite police officer again, and i was needed for a photo line-up.

a photo line-up!

naturally, this quickly became the most exciting thing to ever happen in my young life. ever. as i drove to the police station, i went alphabetically through the phone book in my cell phone to inform everyone i know that i, kristin leigh, was assisting in a police investigation. photo line-up. you know you're jealous.

i assumed that my job in this investigation was complete. but as i departed the police station for the gym, i remembered another vital fact of our encounter. the woman, wishing to consolidate some of her shopping bags, had left behind her three shoe boxes. because so few people work at my store, she was likely to be one of two or three who had ever handled the box. i put in a call to the officer, who assured me the boxes would be fingerprinted. she told me they would likely need to collect the fingerprints of all employees as well.

first a photo line-up, now getting fingerprinted. surely i am the envy of the law-abiding world.

will the perpetrator be apprehended?

will the criminal land in handcuffs due to the hard work of a madpony?

will kristin ever break her chains from the addiction that is diet coke?

stay tuned.