Sam’s Shoe Shop

[A smile dating back to September 3, 2012] An old man was sitting in his easy chair when he heard the mail fall through the mail slot. He got up, stretched and shuffled off to pick up the mail. There was an envelope with a return address from his old Army unit. My old unit, he thought. He tore open the envelope and read that there was to be a reunion. “Wear your uniform!” the letter said.

My uniform. Where is my unif. . . .the attic! He slowly padded up to the attic and there was his footlocker. He opened it and pulled out the pants. They fit. He then shrugged on the tunic. It fit too! But his shoes were not there. Where could they b. . . . He felt in his pocket and there was a card. “Sam’s Shoe Shop – New York City.”  The old man remembered that he had dropped off his shoes for repair 50 years before.  

There was a telephone number on the card so he picked up the phone and dialed.  A voice answered -“Sam’s Shoe Shop.   Sam here.” 

Sam!  Sam!  I was in your shop 50 years ago and dropped off my shoes.”  The old man read off the claim check number.   “By any chance do you still have them?”   

Sam said “All right.  Just a minute.”  The old man waited for several minutes then Sam got back on.  “Okay.  I got ’em.   They’ll be ready next Thursday.” 

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