Early 1996, Trisha's father, Charles Kendrick, who works at Coca-Cola, received a memo stating that Coca-Cola employees from other countries were coming over for some PR activities. Because of the lack of available hotel space, to save costs and foster a cross-cultural partnership, the company asked for volunteers from the executive and management ranks to offer rooms for these employees.
Charles talked this over with then 16-year-old Trisha, his only child, and her mom, Lisa, and got their approval with some excitement and anticipation. They had an extra bed in the basement so they could accompany whomever the company wanted them to have.
"Well, what do you think?" Charles asked. "Should we take on one of the overseas guests? It might be a fun opportunity to get to know someone from a different culture."
He looked up from the company magazine. Charles was an executive with the Coca Cola Company, and persisted (to the chagrin of his family, who would have preferred more frivolous conversation) in reading such things at the dinner table. The latest edition of the in-house magazine contained details of housing arrangements for the upcoming Olympic games. Employees of the company were being asked to play host to overseas visitors connected with the company, for the period of the games.
"Sounds fine to me." Replied Lisa, his wife. "As long as I get some help getting the house ready and making our guest feel at home. I think it would be a good thing for you too, Trisha. You're at the age where it would be good for you, I think - exposure to someone from another culture. Some exotic person from overseas."
"I don't know as we can go that far." Charles laughed. "I don't think any of the guests will be from anywhere that exotic." He wiped his face with a napkin. Most of the company's branches are in fairly staid places." Charles went
on, ignoring her. "Britain, Canada, Edenglassie, Australia, New Zealand. Places like that."
"I've never heard of some of these places anyway." Trisha said. "Like Edenglassie. Do they speak English?" Charles laughed.
"What are they teaching you at Sprayberry these days?" He said, mock-sternly. "Surely you've heard of Australia and New Zealand."
"Oh yes." Trisha said, proudly, as she shuffled her feet in and our of her red clogs she was wearing. "I know where Australia is and isn’t New Zealand somewhere off the coast!"
"And Edenglassie is near there too. It's sort of the top right hand corner of the continent. I understand that Australia is made up of a series of penal colonies, and that Edenglassie refused to join in with the others when they all merged to become a nation." He looked at Trisha. "And yes, sweetie, they do speak English. After a fashion."
"After a fashion?" Lisa asked.
"Well, yes. They can't spell, for a start. They spell color as c-o-l-o-u-r, like the British. And jail as g-a-o-l. And they call streetcars 'coaches', and cabooses 'Guards' vans'... Ray McLuskey was there last year. He said they were all obsessed with their personal appearance, especially the women. The daughter of the family he stayed with owned over fifty pairs of shoes."
Trisha perked up. Her favorite subject was being discussed.
"And they all... well, the upper classes anyway... wear stockings and slips, and gloves, and hats, and suchlike. Real ladies... Ray said it was like stepping back in time."
"Oh come on Charles." Lisa said. "American women wear slips and gloves too!"
"In Edenglassie, they dress up like that even to go to the shops!" Charles laughed.
"Slips. Yuk!" Moaned Trisha. "Like grandma wears!" She looked at her father and giggled. "But tell me more about these shoes. What sort did this girl have?"
"Well, she told ray over fifty pairs, as I said. All sorts. Mules... they didn't call them that, but that's what they were and stiletto heels. Clogs. Court shoes. Pumps. He said he never saw her barefoot except on the beach.
And there, they all wore designer swimsuits, and wraps that cost them a months' salary."
Trisha grinned excitedly. "I like the sound of this place." She said.
"And the men still wear fedora hats, and suits." Charles said. "And smoke cigars. And kiss women's hands when they're introduced. Just like in Europe in the last century. Oh and one more thing - they still serve Coke in returnable 6 ½ ounce green bottles with the pre-1985 coke formula.”
"If we take someone from this place, it would have to be a woman." Lisa put in. "I'm not having a man kiss my hand and stinking the place up with cigar smoke. Anyway, we have a young daughter. It wouldn't be right!"
"Oh Mom!," Trisha playfully rebutted while sitting at the table with her legs crossed with one clog playfully bouncing on a sock clad foot. "There's nothing to worry about with me. I can take care of myself." An idea struck her. "But it would be fun to have someone a little older than me I could go shopping with and stuff like that," She flipped the clog off her foot bouncing it off the tile floor. She quickly uncrossed her leg, recovered the clog on her foot and asked to be excused from the table to go work on her Chemistry homework and do some reading for her upcoming American Literature paper.
"It is exciting, I admit." Lisa said, as Trisha departed. "The Olympic games, being held here! In Atlanta! And this would make us... well, part of it."
"I was hoping you'd say that." Charles said. And with us being just twenty miles from town, this would be a prime spot. Quick burn along the Canton Highway, hop on I-75 and we're in the City. These places like Edenglassie and New Zealand still don't have proper highways, you know. Ray said the main highway, where he lived in Edenglassie was only four lanes. I'll see Dick tomorrow, and tell him we can take a single guest."
"A girl, don't forget," growled Lisa. "Especially if they're from this Edenglassie place. I'm not having my drapes ruined with cigar smoke." She gave a small smile. "Might be nice to have my hand kissed, though."
If Charles had been contemplating accepting a male guest, the last statement decided him. A girl it would be!
Trisha Kendrick was a pretty 5 ft 4 in. brunette with shoulder length hair and a medium build. Her personality could best be described as carefree and casual, friendly but shy when embarrassed, and slightly clumsy from time to time. She was active in various school and church youth group activities.
At this time, Trisha was a sophomore at Sprayberry High School about 20 miles northwest of the center of Atlanta. She was a good and diligent student and had several close friends. Trisha was beginning to casually date Chuck, also a sophomore, who played basketball and baseball for the varsity teams at school. (It was really about a year later that they really dated on a regular basis, however.)
Trisha loved shopping and nice clothes and especially shoes. Shoes and more shoes! She and her best friend, Amber, often stopped off at the nearby Towne Center Mall or one of the area Gap or Old Navy stores after school to check out the bargains. Both had just gotten their drivers licenses a few months before upon reaching their 16th birthdays and had also gotten used Hondas to get around town - Trisha a 1989 Accord and Amber a 1991 Civic. Their parents got these for them with the promise they would get summer jobs to pay for gas and insurance and the increased spending money that came with having your own wheels.
Trisha’s mother, Lisa was a homemaker but very active in the community so at times it was like she has a full time job. Her dad, Charles, worked about 50 hours a week as a middle-level manager for Coca-Cola as a liaison for the south Pacific subsidiaries including the units From Australia/New Zealand and Polynesia.
TRISHA AND AMBER AFTER SCHOOL AT THE MALL
A couple of days after Charles broke the news to Trisha and Lisa that they would be having a 2 week-long visitor during the Olympics, Trisha and Amber gathered their books at the end of the school day, walked swiftly out into the parking lot and tossed them in the back seat of Amber's Honda.
Trisha hurriedly leaped into the passenger seat of the car and clipped the heel of her right clog on the floorboard almost knocking it off, but she was able to catch it with just the tip of her big toe before it could fall. She looked down to see that her catch was fortunate; Amber was parked next to an open storm drain that might have swallowed her fallen clog. Trisha realized that wearing socks with these clogs was not the best idea, but soon it would be warm enough to justify wearing them without socks.
The two attractive sophomores took off out of the Sprayberry High parking lot for an afternoon of shopping and fun - a short few miles to the west to the Towne Center Mall. Amber pressed the accelerator with her white sneaker-clad foot and began the after school chatter as she focused on maneuvering through the heavy traffic on Piedmont Road.
"Well Trisha, what's up with you? We've been too busy to talk much this week. And with South Pacific ending its run on Saturday, my afternoons are free again."
Trisha shuffled her thin white sock-clad feet in her new red clogs, which she had dared to wear for the first time to school that day, and replied, "Actually Amber, we had something interesting happen over dinner the other night. Dad announced that we're going to be hosting an International Coca Cola employee during the 2 weeks of the Olympics coming up in July and August."
"By hosting, do you mean they will live in your house or that you're paying their way over here?"
Trisha quickly responded, "Oh don't be silly, they're going to be a house guest and stay in our spare room downstairs."
"Sounds boring, it will probably be some middle-aged man who'll spend half the time on the golf course with your dad." (Honk...Honk) With the mall in sight now, an impatient Amber beeped her horn at a driver, too slow to react to the green traffic light at the intersection with Interstate 575 where traffic was now pouring onto and off of Piedmont Road.
Trisha waited until the traffic cleared to turn in her seat toward Amber and gleefully come back with, "No wait, it's not like that. Mom and Dad decided to host a lady and she might be fairly young, maybe in her twenties. Maybe we can all go shopping together or something."
"Well, I've been waiting to break the news to you, Trisha."
Trisha abruptly slipped both feet deep into her clogs, straightened her posture and asked, "What news?"
"Mom and Dad are taking me and the rest of our family to Gatlinburg, Tennessee for a 2 week stay at a cabin in the Smoky Mountains to get away from all of the Olympics hoopla," Amber explained while turning into the main entrance at Towne Center Mall.
A shaken Trisha replied, "You're doing what!," as she removed both feet from her clogs. "I was looking forward to us getting together with some of the others and hanging out at some of the Olympics venues.
I can't believe you're missing part of the Olympics Art Festival. There's going to be plays and musicals and art exhibits from all around the world."
"Yeah, I do hate that the most, but Dad promised -- Oh, there's a good parking spot -- that we'll have a fun time and go to some of the shows in Pigeon Forge, spend a day at the Dollywood theme park and drive over to Asheville North Carolina to tour Commodore Vanderbilt's famous Biltmore mansion.
"I also thought you might want to take some of your art equipment down there and do some chalk drawings or pencil sketches for a future art class or art exhibit."
Amber paused in agreement and added, "You're right, but maybe I'll do a nice street scene in Gatlinburg or at the Biltmore mansion. Hey, I’ll even do one for you."
"Well, I'm disappointed," said Trisha as she thrust both feet back into her clogs. "But I'm sure we'll both end up having a good time anyway."
Trisha and Amber departed the Honda with a bit of excitement. Trisha smiled as she looked down at her red
clogs shining in the sunlight as they made a loud clacking sound on the pavement. With anticipation, they
walked toward the food court entrance to the mall. Amber wanted to spend some time at the Clinique makeup counter to try some new lipstick and pick up her free Clinique bonus gift. Trisha, despite the fact she was wearing a brand new pair of shoes, wanted to go to the shoe department to look at the newly arrived summer styles.
These choices were typical for Trisha and Amber when they went shopping. Trisha loved to shop - especially for shoes. She had dozens of pairs and her favorite style was anything backless and non-confining, without a strap or a heel-back. Her cool-weather shoes included several pairs of clogs - both Birks and more the traditional-type clogs. Her warm-weather shoes included a variety of closed-toed mules and open-toed slides of varying heel heights from flat to 3 inches. She was frequently seen playing with them and otherwise having trouble keeping them on. She did wear non-backless shoes when a backless shoe was not appropriate, but she disliked the confinement and the blister causing slipping that occurred because she had narrow heels. Trisha was not much into finding the latest clothing fad, but when backless shoes came back into vogue in the early 90's, young Trisha was one of the first in her middle school to take notice and buy some.
Amber's almost obsession with makeup could be traced to her severe acne problem back in junior high school. Fortunately, this was later solved by her dermatologist before she entered high school, but Amber was left with some acne scars that were not all that bad, but enough to make her a friend to the Clinique counter staff. Despite this area of self-consciousness, Amber loved to be in the public eye, unlike the more private Trisha. She sang in the church choir, sang and acted in the annual spring musical at school (this year she was the lead - nurse Nellie Forbush -in the musical South Pacific) and she was even a varsity cheerleader during the football season.
The girls took seats at raised stools in front of the Clinique counter. Amber, being about 3 inches taller than Trisha was able to rest her toes on the floor. Trisha, however, was forced to let her feet hang, or place them on the footrest.
Trisha browsed at the skin tone chart to see what color of face powder might be most appropriate. Amber dove right in to testing lipstick colors. While studying the chart, Trisha crossed one leg over the other - which was resting on the footrest. Then she began to try a few of face powder samples that the Clinique clerk had placed there to keep her occupied while helping Amber.
Nothing she tried seemed any better than the Cover Girl brand she bought at the local grocery store, but she was able to occupy some of the time Amber was using to look at lipstick. Trisha began to dangle the clog that was perched at the end of her crossed foot.
Soon she began to bounce it against her foot in a circular rhythmic fashion. It eventually it would almost fall off then she'd flip it back on and repeat the dangling process. After about 7 dangle rounds and 5 lipstick colors for Amber, she completely flipped off the clog and it made a noise hitting the tiled floor. Amber looked down and chuckled briefly but continued to try on lipstick.
For a couple more lipstick colors, Trisha sat there with one sock clad foot crossed over her leg while her bright red clog lay lonely on the floor turned on its side. Trisha switched legs and put her sock clad foot on the footrest and dangled the remaining clog just as she did the other one before. Trisha then began
to look at some of the lipstick colors that Amber had already rejected. Most were very nice; in fact, they were hard to distinguish from one another. She tried a couple herself, but nothing looked any better than what she was already wearing.
On Amber's ninth lipstick color, her second clog dropped to the floor and landed near where the other one lay. Her clog was no longer lonely and now Trisha sat with two sock-clad feet not caring about anything except how long Amber was taking to try on lipstick. "Hey Trisha, what do you think about this color - sunrise blossom?"
"It looks good on you, but the other ten were nice colors also," Trisha replied to Amber thinking that she was being way too picky about the color of lipstick.
The Clinique clerk added, "That color matches your olive skin tone and light brown hair. It would even look good if you lightened you hair to be completely blonde."
"I think I'll get this one, but I don't plan on becoming a blonde any time soon - unless I had to do it for a school play or something," Amber addressed the Clinique clerk who gladly took her hard earned spending money from the Rio Bravo where she was a waitress. The clerk also handed her the Clinique bonus gift - a tube of hand lotion and some lip gloss - and moved on to the next teenage customer waiting patiently on one of the swivel-style stools that lined the Clinique counter.
Amber and Trisha, who jumped off the stool and landed both feet in her open clogs in one fluid motion, resumed their conversation as they made their way to the shoe department. "So what country do you think you may get a guest from? Maybe it will be someplace exciting or exotic."
"Dad seems to think it will be someone from an English-speaking country like England, Canada, Australia, New Zealand or Edenglassie," Trisha responded while starting to be distracted at the sight of the new spring line of shoes. "Oh look at all those beautiful new mule and slide styles. You ought to try some on too."
Amber looking disinterested to a point added, "Nah, I'm pretty well...," but then she noticed a pair of green strappy platform sandals and added, "...Oh look at those platforms! It’s like something the Spice Girls would wear! I'll be over here if you need me." Before walking over there, she remembered something Trisha had just said, "That last place you mentioned, I've never heard of it - Edelswitzel?"
"Actually its Edenglassie," Trisha quickly rebutted her mispronunciation as she began to analyze a pair of blue flat-heeled mules. "It's one of the Australian penal colonies that refused to join the rest of the commonwealth. Dad says they dress different over there. Women wear nice clothes all of the time - even slips and hose held up by garters. And the men still wear hats and smoke cigars - even in public places."
"Never heard if it! Who'd want to smoke those nasty cigars, anyway? And who wants to dress up all the time and wear slips and gartered hose? Maybe you'll get someone cool from one of those other countries you mentioned, huh?" Amber sharply suggested as Trisha began to lose interest in the conversation and continued to salivate over the pretty shoes.
Amber took only a few minutes to try on a pair of those platforms and buy them. She returned to where Trisha was trying on her seventh pair of shoes. Trisha really liked the blue flat heeled mules, the leopard spot mules and the white 2-inch slides but was not as impressed with the red thong sandals (the strap between her toes was too stiff) or the black slides with the brass buckle on top (they were too tight). She made a
mental note of what to try and look for on sale at a later date.
The two girls finished their shopping and stopped at the food court to grab a drink and share a box of fries from Wendy's. Amber carried the tray and sat down at a table in the middle of the food court. It was very crowded and there were only a few tables available. This particular table had a bench style seat - like a booth seat in a restaurant - on oone side and a chair on the other. Behind the bench seat was a large plastic flower plot with a rubber tree and some nice artificial plants adding some decor to the otherwise bland foot court area.
While munching on a French fry, Amber returned their conversation to the Kendrick's upcoming houseguest, "When will you know whom you're going to get?" Trisha crossed one leg over the other, dangled a clog and replied, "I'm not sure, but it might be a while. It really doesn't matter, who she is or where she comes from."
Amber added, "But what if it's someone weird or someone with strange customs or something. Don't you want to be prepared?"
Trisha thought a minute and her dangling clog fell off and slid under the table next to them that had just been vacated. Then she replied, "I guess we can get used to just about anything for 2 weeks. And besides, she'll be gone much of the time anyway with her work requirements."
Amber and Trisha shifted the conversation to attending the upcoming men's basketball game that was being played at their gymnasium the following evening. Both Amber's boyfriend, Doug and the guy that Trisha had been out with a few times, Chuck, would be playing. Trisha continued to ignore her fallen clog, even as a couple of guys sat at the table next to them where Trisha's clog had dropped. One of the guys, unknowingly, kicked the clog under his seat (one of the bench seats) putting it out of view.
Amber and Trisha soon finished their fried and drinks and Amber started to get up to leave. Trisha, without looking, uncrossed her legs and began to reach with her foot to find the fallen clog. Instead she found the shod-foot of one of the guys at the next table, as Amber continued about 15 feet away.
Embarrassed, Trisha looked down while explaining, "I dropped my other clog somewhere over there and I was reaching for it."
The guy sitting across and to Trisha's left replied, "Sure you were," in an obvious teasing tone. "I don't
see a clog down here."
Trisha looked a little closer and as he said, her clog was nowhere in sight. Amber, meanwhile, returned to find Trisha down on the floor wearing only one clog. "Hey Trisha, what's going on?" she asked but the answer was pretty obvious.
Upon hearing Amber's voice, Trisha stood back up and replied in disgust, "I've lost one of my clogs down here. Help me look." Trisha reached her hand under what was Amber's seat and felt nothing except a couple of packets of ketchup and a straw.
The guy who was sitting in the bench seat stood up and got down on the floor to help by reaching under his seat. After a couple of hand sweeps, he located and retrieved the missing clog and handed it to Trisha.
With total appreciation, Trisha thanked the guy and quickly replaced the clog on her foot and quickly walked away taking Amber with her.
Amber acted a little surprised at her abrupt departure, "Hey we should have at least chatted with those nice guys and gotten their names."
Trisha thought about that and answered with, "I don't know. I was too embarrassed to talk to them after
being such a klutz and losing my shoe.
With that, the two of them returned to Amber's car to leave Towne Center Mall. Amber dropped Trisha off at school to retrieve her Accord and both went their separate ways home.