Author – Shoeless guy
A few weeks into my new job working for the local Council Tax Office I was required to visit homes who’d failed to return their yearly declaration form. I had been dropped off in a certain area of town with a list of houses to visit, I had to get the forms completed or leave a card if nobody was at home. I would be collected later by my colleague. After several visits, leaving mostly cards, a door was opened by a casually dressed man. I explained who I was, he invited me in to complete the form. He asked me to remove my shoes and follow him to the kitchen where he was making coffee. I undid the laces of my black brogue shoes, removed them and padded in my grey socks to his kitchen. It seemed strange but thrilling walking around a strangers house in my socks. As we completed the form I felt like we had met before, he left me to finish my coffee. He returned wearing a suit, black socks but no shoes. “Need to leave for work” he said with a big grin. I followed him to the front door and he proceeded to put his feet into my shoes.
“Excuse me, but they are my shoes your putting on” I said.
“No, they are most definitely mine” he said with an even bigger grin on his face. “I recognised you when I opened the front door and seen your shoes.. er.. my shoes”
The penny dropped as I remembered him, the fair haired salesman who’s shoes I’d stolen and now he was stealing them back.
He pushed me out the door in my socks. “I can’t return to the office shoeless” I said. “Am I bothered” he shouted, “You made me and my colleague walk a mile in our socks after stealing our shoes, it was embarrassing, see how you like it”. He demanded I return that evening with the stolen loafers or he’d report me to my employer.
I was too embarrassed to visit any more houses in my stocking feet so I waited for my ride back to the office, the salesman walked past wearing the shoes I’d arrived in. “Have a nice day” he said staring at my shoeless feet.
My colleague arrived and couldn’t stop laughing at my predicament “Wheres your shoes dude” he kept saying as he drove me home to replace my missing footwear. I told him some guy mugged me for my shoes. He promised to keep quiet and spare my embarrassment if I bought him a pint on pay day. I had no choice but to wear the stolen loafers, I put my Nike trainer’s in my back pack knowing I’d be returning home without the black slip on shoes.
After work I walked to the salesman’s house as I had just enough money for the bus ride home afterwards. I hoped nobody would answer the door and I’d just leave the shoes on the doorstep but the door opened, both the salesmen where stood there. “He’s returning my shoes but has the cheek to still be wearing them” said the rightful owner. “I needed to wear them for work” I said with a red face. “In here now and get them off your feet” said the dark haired salesman. I stepped inside and took the shoes off and handed them over and said I was sorry. As I attempted to leave the door was closed and locked. They insisted that I let them practice their new product sales techniques on me. I was marched reluctantly to the sitting room in my suit and socks, two hours later they decided to let me leave. I stood on the doorstep and removed my Nike trainer’s from my back pack and put them on. I was about to leave when the dark haired salesman asked for a donation for charity. “Sorry I only have enough for the bus home” I said naively. He smiled and said “The charity will appreciate your donation” as he looked down at my feet and said “Nice trainers”
It was a long walk to the bus stop, my feet where cold, everyone stared at me as I quickly got on the bus. I felt less uneasy as I hid my grey socked feet from view. I reflected on the day, Karma had well and truly bit me on the arse. Not once but twice in one day I had been left shoeless. Now I had no trainers but worse I had no shoes for work tomorrow.