I partied all summer after college, sure in the knowledge that my Communications degree I had just earned would grant me a six-figure job in the fall. Then, the crash of 87 happened. Oh, and, without warning, my father died. I found myself desperately trapsing all over the Cherry Hill Mall in search of a retail job, and Macy’s Ladies’ shoes beckoned me. Now, this was my first experience working in corporate retail. There were weekly “charts” for sales performance and I learned how to dress a woman in a “four pair wardrobe”-basically, a chance to upsell the client with four pairs of shoes instead of one. One day, while cramming a size 7 pump over a bloody bloated size 8 foot, I had a sprawling day dream. In the dream, my co-worker Kathy and I dropped what we were doing and introduced a new dance, The Lord Lean! The dance was inspired by a Nine West shoebox for “The Lord” style boot. The dance was all jumps and leaps and the cranky, middle aged shoppers even joined in. After 6 months of selling shoes, my feet began to really hurt from all the stair climbing in back storage areas. At some point, I thought I was losing my mind. Suddenly, there among the shelves of shoes, was John. He was a total dream boat, Italian good looks, a college boy at Saint Joe’s with the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen. We didn’t even date, but enjoyed lunches together when our work schedules jived. My heart rate rocketed when I saw him and it was just what I needed to survive that winter. The heart is full of mystery, and mine had been pried open by the frolic of a casual flirtation.