What It’s Like Working in a Building Shaped Like a Hot Dog

Over the course of his career, Felipe Torres has repaired thousands of shoes, putting new heels on stilettos, stretching snug Oxfords and resoling riding boots with too many miles on them. But last winter, Torres encountered a job that flummoxed him: a shoe with a three-foot gash on the side. The footwear in question might fit a giant, but Torres knows it as the Bakersfield, California, building that for the past two decades has housed his shop, called (not surprisingly) the Big Shoe. “It’s the only shoe I can never fix,” Torres says ruefully.

In February a car rammed into the side of the structure—probably a size 700 or so, but no one’s ever tried it on—splintering the facade and destroying the door. Torres, who’s rented the shop since 2002, had to close for a week while a crew patched things up. And although it took a bit of effort to track down, there are new laces made of three-inch thick rope that light up at night.