Shoes

I still keep in touch with my high school friend, Meg. She insists that she can solve everything with a change of jobs. "Change your job, change your life," seems to be her motto. Meg has been through more jobs than I can recall. I think she's tried working for nearly every company in town.

Meg had decided to try for another, so she called me the day after I left the message. We discussed the haunted house and my bad dates, and she insisted that I should join her job search, reminding me how this would change my life.

How could I turn down that possibility! To be honest, I didn't really want to change jobs. I liked the security of my job. It might not be the greatest, but it was mine. And I was happy there. But of course the lure of more money was always tempting.

Meg didn't seem to mind my doubts. She coached me excitedly about shoes and clothes. This was my weak area, because I dressed so casually for work now. It was strange how she just popped into my life, here and there, being my friend for only a few moments at a time, almost like the same as with her jobs, it seemed.

She assured me that the nice big-heeled shoes on the upper shelf of the closet were perfect, although I wished they weren't. She told me what to wear and what to say. We were going to be trying for a sales job.