Metrobe

42 isn't the most interesting of numbers, but when its cameo takes place within foot conversations, disbelief is a natural reaction if it is a female speaking of themselves. I don't want to type "awe," as this word brings to mind admiration -damn connotations/words - but there seems to be such a high degree of something similar in the looks of the faces of those listening to me that indeed aweness comes to mind...either that or the looks hint at, "now please name the planet from which you come." Dramatic, yes, but as a friend put it, "they want to sell shoes," though this phrase was in response to me questioning whether or not the salesman was correct in saying that there wasn't a 41 or 42 in the house. It of course made me laugh because it was also relevant to the fact that, yes, stores in Armenia want to sell shoes, so the likelihood of them stocking up on giantware is, to keep with the theme, short.

I do however have faith in the world of Metrobe. Having never lived in a city with a metro system, i'm fascinated with our stop that has an extensive array of shops to get whatever it is done. At the moment, for me it's summer shoe ware, part and parcel of what is now known to me - and others if they care to adopt - Metrobe. It's a uncomplicated line, about 11 stops, rather than the effective and more common circle, but give Yerevan some time, it'll complete the project, despite some local doubt. So, i've seen about 5 other stops and ours - in terms of supply - only has one true competitor [aka my second option].

By the time i was making my way home only 3 of the shops that carried shoes were open and i was able to find a 41, which equals light-at-end-of-tunnel.

Viva la Metrobe!