SHARON, Pa. -- Mark Jubelirer wears a 9D, yet he has bigger shoes to fill.

And he's doing a pretty good job at it.

Mr. Jubelirer is the son of Harry Jubelirer, the man whose feet were firmly planted in Reyers ever since he bought the shop in 1954. The shoe supermarket sitting in this Mercer County town has long earned the moniker "the world's largest shoe store"; Reyers sells women's shoes in size 4-14, from AAAAA to EEEE; men's from 6 1/2-22, AA to EEEEEE. When Harry passed in 2006, Mr. Jubelirer and his brother, Steven, laced in their full-time careers. Hey, if the shoe fits ...

Reyers' silly (but effective) TV commercials and billboards and various advertising campaigns lure people in, but it's the shopping experience that keeps them coming back. After all these years, custom-fit customer service and more than 6,000 different styles of shoes remain the sole of the 11,000-square-foot business.

This week, the Travel Channel was scheduled to pay a visit to the store for an upcoming segment on Mercer County. It's hardly the first time Reyers has had its foot in the spotlight. In 1984, Charles Osgood dropped by to do a segment; a Polaroid of the CBS correspondent hangs on Mark's office wall.

Another hanging Polaroid is of Ed O'Neill, the actor who played shoe salesman Al Bundy on "Married ... With Children"; born in Youngstown, Ohio, the actor "shopped for years" at Reyers. Mr. Jubelirer had the idea to have the actor star in a series of commercials until Mr. O'Neill dropped his asking price: $1 million. It was a bill Reyers couldn't foot.

Last Monday, a woman and her daughter from Georgia buy two pair of shoes. Mr. Jubelirer spots them as they leave to thank them. "Oh, we'll be back!" they promise in unison. "You're the only place that has our size!" (size 12).

Mr. Jubelirer has just exhibited the Reyers philosophy: "Do more for the customer than any other store on the planet."

Reyers has about 50 full- and part-time people; the employees (many of whom have worked for the company for 20, 30, 40 years) are paid hourly, not by commission, although "incentives" are offered for higher sales. "Our service is second to none," he says.

Mr. Jubelirer's business card may state that he is the president (Steven is VP), but he is also the head of women's shoes. He will even act as clerk if need be. Mr. Jubelirer waltzes me through the huge stockroom, with a footprint of 26,000 square feet. Here are thousands upon thousands of shoes on neatly categorized shelves. He stops to show me the store's highest high heel (six inches), a multicolored rhinestone-studded sandal that would look well while lounging on the Rivera, a burgundy and white open-toe number that I tell him is "ugly" (his response: "Does it sell? Yes!") and others. He talks about shoes and fondles them in a way I can only grow suspicious.

"Do you have a shoe fetish?" I ask. He pauses. "If you mean in a sexual way, no. But I have leather in my blood. I know a good shoe when I see one."

This is a store that gets fan letters; Mr. Jubelirer seems to relish the bad ones more than the good. He shows me letters from customers who objected to a TV commercial featuring a buxom vixen; one framed letter is addressed to the "perverts" at Reyers. There are many notes from drag queens and transvestites, thanking the store for offering such a wide selection for those who are "hard to fit."

The tall tale that Mr. Jubelirer enjoys telling the most is the time five years ago when Sandy Allen -- who, at 7-foot-7, is the world's tallest woman -- visited. She wears a men's size 22, and Reyers was able to fit her with two pairs. I ask to see what a size 22 looks like and am handed a brown dress Rockport that could be mistaken for a leather military missile.

Statistics show that men buy three pairs of shoes a year, while women buy seven. Here, those women would have to tip-toe around many styles and designs. Can't find the right shade? Reyers will dye shoes in myriad colors ... three that tickled me pink: "otter," "raspberry" and "delicate cream." And for those whose kick comes from something different, how about a pair of Ramon Tenza mules with heels in the shape of a strawberry, rhinestone-studded fish or gambler's die?

This summer, Reyers will begin carrying "eco-friendly" shoes: "Things take a while to get to Sharon," he says with a laugh.

These days, Reyers sells more than shoes. There are purses, jewelry, frames, sunglasses, cologne, even a toss pillow that reads NEW SHOES CURE THE BLUES. It's a tough market, Mr. Jubelirer admits, with more competition and "not so cheap" rent to pay. To succeed and stay well-heeled and a step ahead, he knows he's got to keep walking those extra miles.

"We could not survive if we depended on the locals," he says. "We are a destination store; our customer base comes from the triangle that makes up Pittsburgh, Cleveland and Erie. We survive because we fit the hard-to-fit. DSW, Payless and Wal-Mart does not want these people."

Reyers is open 362 days a year, and the brothers work just about every one of them. It's grueling, it's frustrating and, above all, he says, "it's what I love."

So at the end of a long hard day what kind of shoe does he slip into when he puts his feet up?

He laughs. "I go barefoot."