The quest

After I worked for only two hours in the morning yesterday, testing the other NYPD officer in Serbo-Croatian, I went to look for my red, ballroom dancing shoes. I went to one of the places this guy at the dance club recommended-Capezio. I was so excited, like a little girl, walking inside this big store, expecting to see my shoes on a shelf, and they would smile at me, and I would pay, and we would never be apart again:-)
But, the cruel reality was bestowed on me. Not only that Capezio didn't have my shoes, they didn't have anything resembling my shoes! Is is possible that tiny Slovenia makes better dancing shoes than New York City?!
Anyway, it's not going to be as easy as I thought. It never is, especially if you screw up something and then you try to fix it.
I came home and looked on the Web. Nope. I've sent couple of e-mails describing the shoes I'm looking for. I'm even asking my mother to bring the pictures with her from Europe.
Yes, I know, I am obsessed.
It's just that the idea of having those shoes again and forgiving myself for selling them for practically nothing way back when, would make me so happy. So happy.
Hopefully, someone in this city will have them or know how to make them. Otherwise, next time I go to Europe, I might stop in Ljubljana.