Today was the big day we wait all year for, when the shoe-mobile shows up at work and we get to pick out our annual pair of steel-toes.
There were two trailers in the parking lot when I got to work, one for Red Wing and one for Timberland. (Same retailer, just different stock in the trucks.) So I went into the Timberland trailer first and said I'd like the same shoes I got last year, please. He glanced at my shoes, asked what size and whipped out a very similar pair of men's shoes a size and a half too big.
(I'm not out at work, and anyway my feet are too narrow for men's shoes, so I'd given him my lady's size.) "You sure about that size?" he asks, and measures my foot. Lord knows what he thought when he saw how far off I was.
After trying on a few different shoes I went over to the other trailer, where the second guy immediately measured my foot in women's sizes.
(He may have recognized me from last year, though. As I recall we had a pleasant conversation about Sarah Brightman.) Anyway, he didn't have any shoes that fit me well, so he looked up the shoes I got last year and said, "Let me go check and see if we have them in the other trailer." And thus I was outed.
Ah well, I would have had to out myself when I handed over my voucher (with my very girly name) anyway.
I must say, the first guy handled it pretty smoothly. He apologized for getting the wrong shoe. No mention of the wrong gender.
