Tiptoeing in Glass Heels

In “Anecdotal Tales”, stories will be told.  Some will be fun, some will not.  Some will be great, some will be less so.  Some stories are true, some are merely possible.  This is one of them.

Tiptoeing in Glass Heels

Feeling important makes one heavy, clumsy, and vain.  To be a warrior one needs to be light and fluid.” -Carlos Castaneda

In almost every aspect, Lynn was the perfect museum employee.  She was interested in the process that an artist took to create a masterpiece.  She had a near encyclopedic memory for an artist’s history and catalog of works.  She even had quite a talent herself for sculpting and painting.  Everyone who came into contact with Lynn walked away knowing that she wanted to share the world of art and her passion for it.  Sadly, due to Lynn’s klutzy nature, people often walked away with stubbed toes or bruises.

Lynn suffered from a shockingly severe case of two left feet.  Whenever she was distracted, pandemonium would inevitably ensue.  She knew she would never be able to join her friends when they went mountain climbing.  She had been banned from a yoga class for gouging two people with her knee caps and knocking other three others in the process.  Knives in her kitchen had to be handled with utmost care.  Even then, Lynn often donned a pair of oven mitts to protect herself from the injuries that anything sharper than a butter knife might inflict.

The older Lynn got, the more she learned that caution was her only salvation.  She knew that taking her time, planning her movements, and generally pausing to establish herself in the environment that she was in were the only ways she could get by without accident.  If she truly focused, she could save on bandages and pain medication.  Such was Lynn’s state of mind when she interviewed at the House of Glass.

As Lynn applied for the position, the realization of what she would be getting herself into never fully registered.   Lynn only knew that she was a woman with a degree in museums and that there were few job openings available in her field.  She sent in her resume and cover letter to any position that was available.  She had been turned down for custodial positions at two different sites because they had felt she was over qualified.  Oddly enough, the only museum that had called her back was the House of Glass.  Lynn knew she could do the job.  She certainly had all the skills that were asked for in the listing.  However, the House of Glass failed to ask during the interview process how Lynn’s physical prowess would hold up under pressure.

It wasn’t until that Lynn pulled up to the visitor parking spot and looked at the main vestibule that she fully understood the predicament she had put herself in.  Her hopes had been raised, the final interview had been scheduled and so Lynn felt that she had no choice but to walk in through the all-glass building and put her best, non-klutzy foot forward.

Maureen, the head of the House of Glass, and Lynn had hit things off smashingly.  They had both graduated from the same program, even mentoring with the same professor.  Maureen liked the ideas that Lynn wanted to implement, and Lynn saw in Maureen someone who would encourage and challenge her at the same time.  However, the challenge of walking around the museum had been rather strong on its own.

Every table seemed to have a tall and delicate centerpiece adorning it.  Lynn cursed her three-inch heels as she tiptoed around each desk.  The reception area was Lynn’s worst nightmare.  All around Lynn were samples of local artists’ works.  Much to Lynn’s dismay, the fragile pink and green flowers nestled next to blue tidal waves were not secured in some elaborate display case.  Instead, they sat on the floor, inviting visitors to get a close-up look.  Lynn felt taunted by the tiny fences that just barely enclosed the labors of love.  They were at the perfect height for her to trip over, but not nearly tall enough to prevent her from falling on the art inside.

Lynn did her best to rise above the challenge.  As she had learned before, she could control herself and her clumsy nature if she could only concentrate.  At the same time, she was incredibly excited about the opportunity in front of her.  It appeared certain that all Lynn had to do was accept the position and it would be hers.  The pieces of art were beautiful, majestically crafted, and they all spoke to her in their own unique voices.  The problem was that for the length of the two-hour interview, the pieces all seemed to scream, “Don’t break me!”

The interview completed where it began.  Once again Lynn found her feet surrounded by tiny masterpieces that all seemed to be asking for her to step on them.  However Maureen took no notice.  She simply smiled, gestured at the House of Glass, and looked Lynn straight in the face.

“What do you say about coming to work for us?”

Lynn clapped her hands and squealed with excitement.  As she rushed towards Maureen, her hand outstretched to her future boss as a show of acceptance; Lynn’s dreaded fear came to life.  Lynn’s left toe caught behind her right ankle and she was thrown off-balance.  Fighting to regain her stance, Lynn wobbled from side to side.  She felt her knees starting to buckle and managed to correct them, but at a price.  Her left foot fell to one side, right where a small, blue snail was displayed.  Even before she heard the glass crack and collapse under her shoe, Lynn knew the work would never be showcased again.

“I’m so sorry”, Lynn said as her hands rushed to her cheeks.  She stared where her foot resided, too horrified to remove her shoe and take in the tragedy that she had caused.  Maureen’s response was, to say the least, not what Lynn had expected.

“Oh, that’s all right”, the woman said.  “It was one of my earlier pieces.  Who’s going to get mad at you, me?  Why don’t we just say the first one is on us?  Just don’t make a habit of it”, Maureen joked.

“Did you happen to like those comments I made about how important it was for these works to be locked up safely and securely?  I could show you the many ways people could damage these fine works of art”, Lynn offered.

“I can see that”, Maureen teased as she went to fetch a folder that contained paperwork for the new hire.  “Let’s have that be priority number one when you start, shall we?”

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About anecdotaltales
He's a simple enough fellow. He likes movies, comics, radio shows from the 40's, and books. He likes to write and wishes his cat wouldn't shed on his laptop.

4 Responses to Tiptoeing in Glass Heels

  1. s1ngal says:

    and that makes me butterfingered klutzy-footed reader… hmmm

  2. aparnauteur says:

    Interesting read. I look forward to read more of Lynn’s clumsiness and how animatedly you describe her (killer name BTW), if you plan to add more to this. Not to nitpick, but shouldn’t Lynn stay miles away from heels?

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