If the Shoe Fits | shoe, stockined toes story

Michelle Linn steered the Saab 9-3 through the leaf strewn streets of Evanston, Illinois looking for the bookseller. Thanksgiving was just three days away and the streets around the campus were mostly empty. When Michelle had graduated from Northwestern back in '97, she would not have imagined that her first trip back here would be for a book tour, if you could call it that. Actually, she hadn't even read the book, much less written any of it. Some hack at the studio pasted it together to promote the cable TV show. She knew "If the Shoe Fits" the book was complete crap, and truthfully, "If the Shoe Fits" the TV show wasn't much better.

Michelle had actually studied theater here at Northwestern, and done some critically acclaimed stage work first in Chicago and later in New York. She had agreed to do the pilot for the cable movie, for the money more than anything else. It wasn't that easy for Asian women in theater. Michelle was 5'8" but very thin, with raven black hair that was past her shoulders. Although she was not particularly athletic, a Hollywood producer had decided she looked like an assassin. After two years on cable, the show had taken on a life of it's own. Because the show was produced by a media conglomerate, some vice-president of something or other decided that Michelle should write a book about the TV show. As part of her contract renewal, she was required to go on a book tour for six weeks.

She pulled up to the curb in front of the bookseller and saw the cover of the book reproduced in one of the windows, only it was eight feet tall. "IF THE SHOE FITS..." was spelled out across the top, and the artwork below featured a pair of shapely legs clad in sheer black stockings, one stiletto heel standing on the ground, and next to it, a smoking Smith and Wesson .38 laying on the pavement. The other stiletto heel was dangling off the toes and hanging directly over the gun, smoke curling around the heel. An embroidered dragon was visible on the insole of the dangling shoe.

This was the same image used for the opening credits of the TV show. "by Michelle Linn" was written across the bottom of the sign. Michelle often wondered whose legs and feet those were. It was probably some poor model making scale, or less. The artwork for the TV show was made long before Michelle had hired on, but it was assumed by most people that those were her legs in the picture. At least it was assumed by the authors of hundreds of fan letters every week, writing to propose a wide range of unsavory activities centered around her feet, and those exotic shoes. The premise for the TV show was simple enough, Asian female assassin stalking international bad guys, police on her trail, no clues to her identity except a black heel with an embroidered dragon logo that she lost in episode one. They spent two seasons looking for the woman who belongs to the shoe.

Michelle Linn got out of the car just as her cell phone rang. "Hey Marty, what's up, where you at?" she answered. She was wearing all black, a requirement of the studio contract, except for a pair of white Nike cross trainers. She popped open the hatchback. "Marty, listen to me: I want that part, you are my agent, get me that part." She listened to him whine as she fished a black stiletto from the back of the car. She pulled her heel loose from the tennis shoe and kicked it into the open hatch. She peeled off the white sock that covered her sheer black stocking, and quickly replaced it with the jet-black heel. She stood in the middle of the street wearing all black, head to toe, except one white sneaker. "Marty, there is no one that can play that part like I can..." she pulled her heel out of the other sneaker and lofted it into the open hatch. "Marty..." she juggled the cell phone, as she peeled off the other sock and tossed it in next to the Nike. She leaned in and balanced on one shoe while she rearranged the luggage in an attempt to find the other high heel. "Just get me the meeting, Marty, I'll take care of the rest." She spotted the other shoe wedged in behind the passenger seat. "I'll be back in L.A. in three weeks..." she said, slamming the hatch shut, "...and when I get there, I want to read for that part." She hobbled around to the passenger door, stepping carefully with her bare toes to keep from snagging her stocking on the rough concrete sidewalk.

"Marty, I just...SHIT!" She cupped her hand over her eyes and peered through the side window at the car keys in the ignition. "I just locked my keys in the car, and my shoe is in there with them!" Michelle paced back and forth listening to Marty talk. She leaned against a mailbox holding her foot above the chilly sidewalk. "I can't calm down Marty, I'm standing in the middle of town, in front of a book store in one shoe." She examined her stockinged foot. She had always disliked her feet, because they were too skinny, and her toes were too long, and her ankles were to thin. She always wore socks, and growing up, she and her family had always worn slippers at home, and she was very uncomfortable going barefoot, even for short periods of time. "Marty, I am not about to be stuck here for a whole day of signing this cheesy book, while my shoe is locked in the car," she said, sounding shrill as she lost her balance and her toes touched the cold sidewalk. "You call somebody right now, send a locksmith, send the police, whatever. I need my shoe back right now!"

Marty did his best to reassure her, and said that he would be there in half an hour tops. As she hung up, a woman was walking toward her carrying a set of keys. She looked straight at Michelle, but glanced down several times at her exposed stockinged foot. "Marge Thompson" the woman said, shaking her hand, and gesturing toward the door with her keys. "Please come in, you're early." Michelle walked unevenly to the entrance of the bookseller. "I've seen you on TV, my grand kids love your show."

Marge unlocked the door and turned on the lights. "The people from the publisher came in yesterday and got everything set up." A large table with books and a standing display sat on a riser off to one side, next to the front window. "Stella Friedman is in charge of their operation. Coffee?"

Michelle nodded and walked up the five steps, her heel clicking loudly on three of them, and sat down at the large table. A hundred dangling shoes were facing her from the stockpile of books on the tabletop, reminding her of her own predicament. She looked at her stockinged foot, which would be on display in the window, right at eye level, if she didn't get her shoe back. She started to dial Marty but stopped when she saw that the police were already working on the problem. She waived at the officer through the window, but he didn't seem to notice her. Marge brought the coffee and they talked about books for a few minutes.

"This is only my second signing," Michelle said, "and the first one was at the studio, so I don't really know what to expect." She told Marge all about working on the TV show, until she paused watching her car begin to roll away behind a police tow truck. "Hey!" she leapt up and ran out onto the sidewalk. "My car! My shoe! Hey! My shoe!" Michelle marched up to the officer. "I thought you were here to get my shoe!"

He looked at her bare stockinged toes and shrugged. "I'm not a cobbler ma'am, I'm just a traffic cop, and this is a tow zone." He pointed at the sign above her head, as he smirked at her stockinged toes.

A stout woman stood next to her as the police officer walk away. "Stella Freidman," she introduced herself, "I'm from your publisher, Brewster & Shultz."

"Nice to meet you Stella," she said. "The thing is, we're going to have to reschedule this deal today. My car just got towed away with my other shoe inside," she explained, looking down at her stocking clad toes again, "and I just don't think I'm up for this today."

"Honey, you're gonna have to get up for this, because we have done a ton of PR for this appearance, and you can't just cancel out." Stella sounded resolved. "This is going to be a big day, so let's just go inside and work through this."

Michelle followed her into the store and returned to her seat at the signing table. "Someone must have some shoes I could borrow, don't they?" she asked hopefully.

"Not like that one," said Stella, "and that's the one on the cover of the dust jacket. We can still make the tie-in work though. You lost your shoe in the first episode, right, and you never found it yet, because the police took it for evidence, so you only have one shoe and..."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Michelle broke in standing up and nearly shouting. "I've been on the show for two years and I wear my shoes at all times. I've never taken them off even once. Even in the first episode, it was dark and I was wearing black slippers. Those aren't even my feet in that picture, it's a body double. You think somebody would accidentally leave their shoe at a crime scene, and then just walk around barefoot for two years after that? How long would it take for the cops to figure that one out? There goes an Asian woman with only one shoe, could be our perp."

"I wouldn't think someone would lose their shoe in the first place. But that's not really my point. My concern is selling books and getting media coverage to sell even more books. I don't care whether you ever wear shoes at all, I just want you to smile and sign the books that people buy."

"Marty!" she exclaimed, and ran over to him as he entered the store. "Marty, my car got towed with my shoe locked inside, and now they want me to sit here in my stockinged feet signing books for the rest of the day, and you've seen all the crazy fan mail about my feet and those shoes and I'm freaking out and you have got to get me out of this deal and...!"

Marty led her to an over stuffed couch, and she quickly pulled her exposed foot underneath her. He spoke in a calm voice and soothing tone. "Michelle, you have to do this. We signed a promotional contract for the book, and you have to abide by the terms of it."

"It doesn't say I have to do it in public in my stockinged feet!" she jumped up, glaring at him, balancing unsteadily on the remaining stiletto.

"Actually, it says exactly that," Stella said producing a pink document from her briefcase, and putting on her reading glasses. "Subsection 103.b-1 says that the Dragon Shoes are integral to the title character and are specifically identified as images intended to be representative of the title character, and that the author will appear in the shoes and in a predetermined costume at all promotional appearances. Then, in subsection 103.b-6a, it references the dangling of Dragon Shoes as a defining trait specific to the title character, and requires that dangling, partial removal and/or removal of aforementioned shoes for promotional and promotional display purposes. In other words," Stella summarized, "you have to show the dragon emblems inside the shoes in order to promote the book."

"Can they really do that?" Michelle looked at Marty. He nodded once, and she just put her head down and shuffled back to the steps climbing up to the table again. "So what's it going to be, boss lady?" she said, glaring at Stella, "one shoe, no shoes, dangling dragon shoe? If you're the twenty-fifth customer, you get to suck my toes?"

"If you would just sit in a normal position, be pleasant, and sign the books for the customers, I think everything would be just fine," Stella told her.

People were lining up on the sidewalk already, and the store would not be open for another ten minutes. Michelle looked out the window and saw an older man staring intently through the window, examining her nylon clad toes less then a yard in front of his face. She shuddered inwardly, but smiled pleasantly when the man looked up at her.

When the doors finally opened, most of the books sold out in less than four hours, and more were brought in from another store. All of the local TV news people showed up and did feature stories. When asked, Michelle graciously removed the remaining shoe from her foot and displayed the dragon embroidery on the insole. The rest of the time, she rested her stockinged foot on the floor and dangled the shoe from her toes in a good likeness of the book cover artwork. When one reporter went on camera standing directly in front of the table, the dangling shoe fell off, and Michelle's stockinged foot was almost in his face. When the camera crew focused in on her feet and the empty exotic shoe, she pushed the shoe around with her stockinged toes until the dragon, as well as her stockinged feet, were on display for the TV camera. When the reporter leaned in too close, she momentarily slipped into the fem fatale character from the TV show and ordered the reporter to kiss her foot, which he did, insuring himself and his feature a spot on the nightly news. One of the customers got his book signed and asked if he could kiss her feet too, which she allowed after only a slight hesitation. She grimaced when he nibbled her toe, but laughed aloud, keeping things humorous. That customer would also make the news that evening. Another customer convinced her to step on the inside cover of the book while he traced the outline of her toes with a pencil.

Marty and Stella sat in the corner watching the delighted fans interact with Michelle Linn. The long line snaked around in front of the signing table, so anyone with an interest got a good long look at the dragon shoe, and the exquisite stockinged foot displayed along side of it.

"I can't believe your people wrote all that shoe business into the contract rider," Marty told Stella. "Could I take another look at that?"

"Sure," she said, and produced the large page from her purse, handing it to him ceremoniously.

"Do you have any history of heart problems?" he read, "Any allergies to medications?" "What the hell is this?" he asked, looking puzzled.

"I got a doctors appointment Friday. They gave me this form to fill out," she said.

"So all that shoe removal stuff in the contract was just..."

"Made it all up," she said, pouring more coffee, and meeting his eyes. "You think actors are tough to work with, try working with writers."

"Unbelievable." Marty laughed. "Have any other clever ideas?"

"As a matter of fact, I was thinking we could really build on this shoe thing. For some reason, certain people are really into it. Maybe we could have a silent auction for Michelle's shoes at every appearance, a benefit for some charity or something," she said.

"Some kind of children's literacy program," he offered.

"Or maybe we could have her just take off the shoes and leave them at each bookstore, so they can use them as a sales display."

"That would take a lot of shoes," Marty said.

"I already called the Studio. They have wardrobe working on it now.

The store closed at 8:00 and Stella took them out to eat at a Bistro across the street from the bookstore. Michelle Linn had left her remaining shoe at the bookstore, and padded across the street, wearing out her stockings, but seeming unconcerned.

Stella checked her messages and learned that the switchboard had been tied up for hours by people watching the evening news, and calling to find out where the next book signing would be. The publicist said that the local news spot was being picked up by at least one of the networks for the national feed.

"I think I would like a lobster tail," Michelle told Marty, "and also, I think I would like an extra secretary to answer all that mail I expect to receive.