Daddy Needs a New Pair of Shoes

My trusty pair of sandals and I have been through quite a fair bit of action together over the past couple of months, seeing highland foliage, mountain streams, sandy beaches, ocean tides, monsoon puddles, urban terrain and the like. They're still holding up but the moisture has affected the fabric to the point where they've developed a musty gym locker smell. I'm fine with that but I don't think many people share the same sentiment. Especially on crowded trains.

It's time to part ways with these old sandals, I'm afraid. Sad, I know.

Ah, but it's not so easy. It usually never is.

Men in Asia generally don't wear shoes larger than size 10's. As such, most shoe stores here don't sell anything larger than 11's. I wear 13's.

Luckily for me, today's trip out with my cousin and his folks brought us to Petaling street, a place I'm not wholly unfamiliar with. Because Petaling Street draws in large amounts of tourist dollars, the stalls along this stretch offer products in larger Western sizes. I settled on a shoe stall near the end of the stretch that claimed to have size 13 sandals. Impossible, I thought. I picked out a suitable pair of Timberlands and my cousin's wife helped bargain down the price (thanks Jen).

Just as the deal was about finalized, the guy yelled out something in Chinese and started packing up. He told me "no shoes today" and continued closing down his shop. The other stalls followed suit.

The counterfeit police, it turns out, had just raided the store right behind us.

And like that, the proprietor and his shoes disappeared off into the crowd:

It looks like my old sandals just got a temporary reprieve.