About those pink shoes

 Once upon a time, when I was young and, if not hot, at least relatively attractive, I owned a lovely pair of two-tone pink shoes with three inch heels.  Since I am five feet 10 inches tall and skirts were short back then, those shoes, worn with a matching pink suit (short skirt of course) made my legs look pretty good.  I wore that outfit to a job interview in Monticello, New York.  I was applying for the job of junior high art teacher.  As I was driving across New York state, a much longer driver than I had anticipated, on a well paved four lane highway, through a very thinly populated area, I had a flat tire.  Happily, I was able to pull into the median.  As I stepped out of the car to assess the situation, long legs first, two pickup trucks stopped and two very nice young men had that tire changed in nothing flat.  Then they led me back to a bar/service station where they treated me to a drink while I called the superintendent of schools who was expecting me in an hour to explain why I would be late.  He agreed to wait for me and I did finally make it to my appointment.  He and the principal were waiting for me, the interview went well, and I got the job.  It wasn't until a few months later that the principal told me that before I showed up he had told the superintendent that he wasn't going to hire another woman art teacher unless I was at least six feet tall.  Thanks to those lovely pink shoes I was.  A friend told me later that I was the only person he ever knew who had been hired by the yard.