On my late lunch break today I decided to head over to Saks to see the shoe floor. Apparently, giving shoes their own floor also warrants it’s own zip code. In an "only-in-New-York" kind of way, it also comes equipped with it’s own Express Elevator, Private VIP Room, and a Chocolate Cafe. In other words, it’s Women’s Heaven.
So, I sauntered out of 30 Rock, danced across the street to the tune of horns blaring, fought my way through the entire perfume department, and found myself face-to-face with the elevator bank.
Now, Saks has around 8 elevators (I didn’t count exactly), and I saw that there was an elevator that was destined to go only to the Shoe Floor. There was an enormous purple sign above the elevator that said "EXPRESS ELEVATOR TO SHOE FLOOR," with an adorable scrolled shoe underneath the writing.
The elevator’s doors opened and I quickly nipped inside before they shut. It was quite crowded with close to eleven other people. I stood there for a moment before I realized that we weren’t moving. I glanced over to the buttons and saw that no one had pressed the 8th floor (which was the shoe floor). So, I leaned over and pressed it and the elevator gave a lurch and started climbing.
"Oh," said snooty woman one behind me, "it’s moving, it’s not broken."
I watched as people on both sides of me started pushing other buttons for other floors… which of course, did not light up.
"This elevator only goes to the shoe floor." I stated
"What?! Why? How were we suppose to know that??" snooty woman two demanded.
"Well," I said gently as I pointed to the purple signs on all of the elevator’s walls, "There are signs that say that this elevator only goes to the shoe floor."
There was a chorus of grumbling behind me, while a man frantically jabbed at the 5th floor button to no avail.
"It should have been better marked!" exclaimed snooty woman one.
I glanced over my shoulder, and with an eyebrow raised said, "There was a giant purple sign above this elevator that said ‘EXPRESS ELEVATOR TO SHOE FLOOR’ on it."
"Well, it should have been better marked!!" shrilled snooty woman one again.
The elevator doors opened, and fearing for my sanity, I exited the elevator hastily.
I found it quite funny that I was the smartest person in an elevator of twelve.
On a different note, the floor is ostentatiously ornate; shoes lining tables of varied shapes to keep the eye moving, very fluid and sleek.
As I was perusing everything that I cannot afford, a sales clerk came up to me and offered me a chocolate. I went with the pink champagne milk variety, which wasn’t worth the calories.
However, if anyone would like to buy me shoes from Saks, I am accepting donations…