Saturday *

Somewhere deep in a numbered box labeled "Bietnam", staged someplace along the bureaucratic route between Monterrey and Saigon, there's an eighteen- by eight- by eight-inch red metal box filled with tools. A few hammers, a selection of screwdrivers, wire cutters--all neatly tucked away beneath leather work gloves awaiting the next time they are needed. Recently, I went to Silver Springs Maryland to see a couple of Japanese movies. Did I ever mention that Silver Springs is basically a mall? Sure, Discover Channel has a home office there, commuter housing megaliths and high-rise office parks with corner Starbucks sit around, but mainly it's a mall. I'm unclear whether "Downtown Silver Springs", propped in three-foot tall iron letters at the corner of Red Lobster and Macaroni Grill, refers to the enormous warren of shopping opportunities beyond the food court, or if it really does advertise downtown. With some extra time Thursday, I decided to buy a pair of walking shoes. Something comfy and lightweight. All the shoeboxes were marked incorrectly, but I found something that fit both my needs and feet eventually. Then I ate Lebanese fast-food and had coffee before carrying my new shoebox into the theater with another half-hour to kill. I thought I might lace the things and use them for the half-mile uphill trek awaiting me at the end of the metro ride tonight. But the clerk had neglected to remove the security device from the left shoe: a double-weaved plastic-coated steel cable permanently crimped to a white plastic device labeled "WARNING: permanent staining dye may cause injury." It took till yesterday evening to eventually hack through that cable with just the stuff I had in the kitchen. I only cut myself once, but it took two bandaids to keep the blood off the shoes. [Cavin]