EMOTIONAL IMPLICATIONS OF GOING TO THE COBBLER

  1. I brought three items with me: my favorite leather bag, some boots that need new heels, and new loafers I need stretched out to fit my wide lil hobbit feet.
  2. My favorite leather bag is older than I am and has some general wear-and-tear, and one of the straps is falling off.
  3. When she was examining the bag, the cobbler lady asked why one part was so worn down, do I bike a lot?
  4. It's my mom's old bag, she bought it when she was living in San Francisco 30 years ago (so, when she was my age).
  5. She did bike a lot, she always tells me how ripped her legs got from those dang hills.
  6. So I was in a cobbler's in Oakland thinking about my tiny mom and her cool bag, biking up and down those dumb hills and making the same mistakes I've made.
    One time she fell into the Embarcadero fountain after a particularly aggressive happy hour. "All I remember is that I got my velour suit all waterlogged. It was the 80s!"
  7. I needed the heels on my boots replaced because I drag the back of my feet and they were really worn down.
  8. I called my mom and mentioned that, and she told me her shoes do the same thing, which makes sense because she's the one who taught me how to walk.
  9. I miss my mom a lot. It's not easy being so far away, but it's nice to know that I'm walking the same way in the same places she did at my age.
  10. I never bike in SF proper though, that seems like a nightmare.