It is our habit to look for a bargain. Everyone likes to make a deal, feel like they’re getting more for their money, myself included. So, when a friend of mine recently recommended a fantastic shoe shopping experience that could result in a real deal, I was all in. Or so I thought.

Having recently joined a gym, I was whining about sneaker woes. Mine were old and hurt my feet. She told me about a shoe store that would analyze my foot and find out what the best sneaker is for my needs. The only downfall was that this particular place charges a boat load of money for their merchandise, but I could always take that useful information and find the same sneaker for a whole lot less somewhere else.

Hmm. Sounded easy enough. I hit the road with Second Born and my sneaker-worthy socks, and we went hunting for the special sneaker store. We walked into a world of sporty shirts, hats, and shoes. So many shoes — for walking, running, and probably even shopping — I have no idea. We had barely browsed when a young man approached and asked if we needed help. Oh yes, I did, because I understood nothing about picking out sneakers that weren’t limited to two boxes marked wide width.

The next thing I knew, I was removing my shoes and socks and letting some stranger get personal with my feet. He had me stand on some type of analyzing contraption, which went into specifics about the shape of my tootsies as well as my gait.

Then the sampling began. My temporary personal assistant disappeared into the deep abyss of stored shoes and returned with three different boxes of sneakers for me to try, each with different benefits. There is something about letting someone else slip shoes onto my feet and tie them that makes me feel like I’m five years old – and yet, I like it. That’s probably because it’s preferable over letting anyone witness me groaning and grunting to tie the laces.

With each pair I tried on, I strutted around the showroom floor like a pro. Not really. I’m one of those weird people who becomes very self-conscious walking in front of people who I’m convinced must be judging my awkwardness, adding more awkwardness to each step. Mom didn’t call me a bull in a china shop for nothing. But I did my best, semi-carefully skirting around other store personnel and customers and being sure to pay attention to the fit and comfort and, most of all, balance.

After at least five pairs of shoes, my helper brought out the big guns — the perfect balance of support and flexibility. I was in love. With the shoe, that is. Wrap it up, I declared, completely forgetting to politely leave with the shoe make and model in hand so I could order it somewhere else. He asked if I would like to wear them out of the store and I countered with, “I know the rules,” referring to the fact that you can never, ever, ever return shoes that have touched any ground other than the store carpeting, and maybe a touch of vinyl. Like, ever.

Then he said something that almost caused me to cry with joy.

“You can wear them anywhere for up to 60 days and you’ll still get a full refund if you return them.”

He explained that many of their customers are runners who need to put some real use into their sneakers before they know for sure if it’s the right fit. I realized at that moment that this shopping experience was worth every extra dime.

It’s certainly worth shopping around and getting a good deal on pricey purchases. In the sneaker shopping case, the superior customer service won me over. This guy deserved every cent of however he was compensated for his work. My bank account may be a little lower, but it was worth investing in the “end” result — happy feet.

Janine Talbot recently published a story about her first kiss in “Laugh Out Loud: 40 Women Humorists Celebrate Then and Now… Before We Forget,” available through Amazon. She lives in southern Maine. Email Janine at [email protected].