IN EXCESS

A few weeks ago, I went to a shoe-repair place in Beverly Hills to pick up my blue flats. They had been resoled--about an $18 operation. While I waited my turn, a tall, blond woman in cowboy boots whipped out her checkbook and asked, “How much do I owe you?” The clerk began bringing large shopping bags crammed with shoes from behind the counter--four, five, six bags--and then got out his calculator. After a moment, he said, “Five hundred and seventy-five dollars.” Then he added, “The rest will be finished next week.”

I didn’t have the heart to ask. I try to be generous. Maybe a group of orphans is getting new shoes.