Short Stories

Author – Charlie

My interest in losing my own shoes or seeing other guys losing theirs brought me to this website. Lots of great stories to digest, I’ve only experienced one incident of losing my shoes, it was weird but exciting too. It’s short and brief. Anything else I add will be made up from stories I have read here.

The Taxi Passenger
I had been stopped by a passenger in a taxi, he wanted to swap his trainers for my shoes as he had been stopped from entering a night club. The thought of swapping shoes with a stranger thrilled me. I took off my black laced shoes and handed them to him. Instead of giving me his trainers he told the taxi driver to move off. I stood there in my socked feet in the city centre, I never saw him or my shoes again. I felt like a right idiot at the time being mugged by someone who never even got out of the car. I laugh about it now.
It was the only time I have lost my shoes in public. I said it was a brief but true story. I hoped you enjoyed it.
The following and any future stories are fictitious and based upon stories I have read here. Anyone who thinks it’s just plagiarism can confiscate my shoes as punishment. 😊

Shoplifters
Me and my mate had been to a neighbouring town to visit his cousin. On our way back to the bus station we called in a shop to buy some drinks. A display cabinet near the door contained lots of shoes, particularly trainers. I remembered reading an article online a few years ago about this shop, confiscating shoes from shoplifters. I found it intriguing, but my mate Sean claimed it was untrue and the cabinet was just full of used shoes to deter thieves. We got our drinks and paid for them but as we were leaving the shopkeeper stopped us, accusing us of stealing confectionery. I laughed telling him he was mistaken, Sean didn’t. The shopkeeper stared at my hoodie before removing two Snickers bars from the hood. Sean admitted putting them there, testing to see if the shoe confiscation was real saying he had no real intention of stealing them. The shopkeeper said all he had to do was ask and would Sean have paid for the chocolate if we hadn’t been caught. I noticed the shopkeeper looking at my Adidas trainers, I proclaimed my innocence, but he demanded my shoes regardless. Sean thought it was funny until the shopkeeper told him to take off his Reebok trainers too. We offered to pay double the price for the allegedly stolen Snickers, but the shopkeeper stuck to his policy of confiscating shoes. He insisted on taking our shoes, we reluctantly took them off. We watched frustratingly as our footwear got locked inside the display cabinet along with all the other confiscated shoes. He kicked us out of the shop in our socks like criminals before telling us to come back tomorrow to collect them. Although Sean had instigated our shoe loss, watching him suffer the indignity of riding the bus home in his socks distracted me from my own embarrassment.

Detention
Unforeseen circumstances had me return to my hometown; I began attending a new school which was stricter than my old one. School had ended for the day, and I passed a group of lads stood outside a classroom. I recognised Glen, we had been my best friends in primary school before I moved away years ago. We had been talking for ages before realising I was about to miss my bus. I began to leave when an approaching teacher stopped me and accused me of avoiding his detention class which Glen and the others had been waiting to attend. I assured him I wasn’t, but he said only those awaiting detention would still be on the premises. He ordered Glen and the others to enter the classroom as he demanded my student identity card. Now he had my details, he demanded I enter the classroom, failure to do so would mean further detention and a letter to my parents. I obeyed. Pairs of shoes scattered the floor near to the teachers desk, I looked at those present, they were sat in socked feet. The teacher ordered me to remove my shoes. I shouldn’t be here, now I have to take off my shoes too.
Not only had I missed my bus, accused of avoiding a detention I had not been sent to, I now had to hand over my shoes and involuntarily stay in a classroom in my socked feet.

The Shoe Patrol

Author – Jman

The student union had several study rooms, lounges and a snack bar. It was a comfortable place to study and hang out with friends. Often students would take off their shoes and roam the student union in socked feet. The problem was that when students took off their shoes they would leave them on the floor in walkways where people could trip over them. There had been a few times where students had almost tripped over other students’ shoes. Also it became hard to vacuum the floor with all these shoes lying about on the floor. These concerns were raised to the managers of the student union.

In response to this lockers were placed in the student union where students could leave their shoes and walk around in their socks. A policy was made that shoes must be kept in lockers and not on the floor and that any shoes left unattended would be removed. Despite the warning and the policy shoes were still being left on the floor in areas where people could trip over them. Many of the students did not want to pay the fifty cents to rent a shoe locker.

Unattended shoes were still a big problem and something had to be done. The student union decided to hire two students who would be known as the shoe patrol. There job would be to go throughout the student union with a trash bag and if they found any unattended shoes left on the floor, they were to take the shoes and put them in their trash bags. At the end of their shift the collected shoes were to be taken to the shredder in the basement where the shoes would be shredded and the remains would be recycled.

Joe and Wendy were hired to be the shoe patrol.. Joe and Wendy believed in following rules and believed in zero tolerance for breaking the rules. Joe and Wendy started their rounds.

Meanwhile Jason was in one of the study rooms. Jason had a habit of always taking off his shoes, leaving them in a study room and roaming the student union in his socks. Today was no exception. Jason took of his brown oxford school shoes and set them aside. He got up to take a break and left his shoes unattended. On the way back he stopped in the lounge and began to watch a tv show. He did not think about his shoes being unattended. He had left them in study rooms before and nothing happened.

As Jason went back to the study room, he saw Joe in the distance placing his shoes into the trash bag. Jason tried to get back to the study room to save his shoes but it was too late. The shoes were already in the trash bag. Once the shoes are in the trash bag, they cannot be returned but had to be taken to the shredder. As Jason, in his white socks, came into the study room, Joe said, “Were these your shoes?” ‘Yes,” Jason replied.

Jason accepted the fact that his shoes were gone. Joe continued his rounds.

to be continued…

The Vault

Author – Jimbo

It was the school holidays and me Jeff and Bobby were bored, the weather had been lousy. Eventually it stopped raining, we decided to go outside but Bobby had to babysit his younger brother Charlie, who wanted to spend the day on his PlayStation. Nobody liked Charlie, especially his brother. At 13 he was old enough to look after himself but Bobby didn’t trust him to be left home alone so he insisted on taking him with us but Charlie refused to leave.

Bobby threw Charlie his trainers to put on but the lad threw them back. I picked up his discarded Nikes and threatened to throw them in the river. Charlie took the hint, snatched back his trainers and reluctantly put them on and followed us outside.

As we headed towards the town centre it began to rain again, Jeff suggested we go inside an abandoned bank to shelter from the rain. We entered through a broken window at the back and began to explore. Downstairs in the cellar we found a vault.

‘Do you think they left any valuables behind?’ Joked Jeff.

It had iron railings from floor to ceiling. I commented that it looked like a jail as we walked inside. Bobby suggested we should lock Charlie in. We all laughed at the thought, then we heard the door close behind us. Charlie had locked us inside and it was him now laughing from the other side of the iron bars. Bobby swore at his younger brother as he tried to open the door.

‘You better go find a key you fucking piece of shit!’

There was no other way out, after all it was a vault. Charlie laughed again saying we were his prisoners and we should be more respectful.

‘Go find the fucking key!’ I shouted.

Charlie disappeared leaving us alone. A short while later he returned holding some keys he had found in an upstairs office. Several keys didn’t fit but one did, as soon as he unlocked the door he slammed it shut again.

‘Think you guys need to stay here a while longer, reflect on your attitude towards me.’ He said laughing dangling the key.

‘Open the fucking door!’ Shouted Bobby.

‘You need to speak respectfully to your prison guard or you won’t be released.’
He then placed the key on a wall hook out of reach of us telling us we can stare at it for a while. Bobby got out his phone to call his dad.

‘Dad won’t be happy to leave work to rescue us.’ Said Bobby.

He quickly realised he had no signal, me and Jeff looked at our phones, we had no signal either. We were in a vault!

‘Unlucky!’ shouted Charlie as he walked away leaving us trapped.

Bobby shouted at his brother to come back but he didn’t. We could see the key but couldn’t reach it. Jeff took off one his Adidas trainers and threw it at the wall but missed the key. He tried again with his other trainer, the key fell to the floor.

‘We still can’t reach the key and now you have no shoes!’ I said.

Jeff looked at his white socked feet as he realised his trainers were out of his reach too. Charlie returned and seen the key and Jeff shoes on the floor. He put the key in his pocket and picked up Jeff’s trainers.
‘Give me my shoes and open the fucking door!’ Shouted Jeff.

‘You still don’t get it do you boys! You have to be nice to me before I set you free.’

Charlie kicked off his Nikes and placed his feet inside Jeff’s Adidas Sambas.

‘Get your grubby feet out of my trainers.’ Shouted Jeff.

Jeff’s size 11 trainers were too big, he quickly put his own trainers back on. He smiled as he looked at Jeff’s socked feet.

‘Having watched Traffic Cops on TV all prisoners get their shoes confiscated before going in the cells. I think you should do the same. Take off your shoes boys.’ He said with a big grin on his face.

I looked down at my TN’s and told him straight that he wasn’t having my shoes.

‘Your not getting our shoes as we are not your fucking prisoners, just open the door shithead.’ Shouted Bobby.

‘Your still not being nice to me, the more you’re disrespectful the longer you stay locked up.’ He said as he left again taking Jeff’s shoes with him.

‘Leave my shoes here!’ Shouted Jeff.

Charlie ignored him leaving Jeff frustrated at having his shoes taken by a 13 year old and he was helpless to anything about it.

This time Charlie had been gone a good while. We began to get concerned that he’d gone home leaving us trapped inside the vault.

I said we are going to have to be nice to him.

‘He’s gonna have to let us out eventually.’ Said Jeff.

‘When he does I’m gonna fucking kill him.” Said Bobby.

Charlie returned empty handed.

‘What have you done with my trainers?’ Demanded Jeff.

Charlie assured him they were safe for now.

‘What do you want in order for us to leave here?’ I said politely through gritted teeth.

“Your shoes!” He said looking at my feet.

I looked at my TN’s and said he could take them as long as I get them back.

‘You are my prisoners, I make the demands.’ He said.

I reluctantly took off my trainers and placed them through the bars. As he took them I grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards me, pinning him to the bars. Jeff reached into Charlie’s pockets but the key wasn’t there.

‘Nice try boys, the key is with your Adidas trainers Jeff. You’ll now have to spend a little longer in there for your attempt at escaping.’

‘You said you would free us if I give you my shoes!’ I said.

He smiled saying he didn’t stipulate when we were to be freed.

‘You fucking arsehole!’ Shouted Bobby.

He picked up my trainers threatening to throw them in the river.

I watched helplessly as Charlie left with my trainers leaving me standing on the cold floor in my black Nike crew socks.

Bobby said his brother would suffer painfully when he gets out of here. Charlie returned.
‘We still have a prisoner wearing shoes, they need to be confiscated!’

We all looked at Bobby’s white Air Force Ones.

‘I’m not your prisoner and you’re certainly not taking my trainers!’ Said Bobby.

‘Just give him your shoes!’ Said Jeff.

Bobby stood defiantly with his arms crossed. Charlie told me and Jeff to remove his brothers shoes. Bobby’s face looked like it was about to explode. At 17 he was not happy at being ridiculed by his kid brother in front of his mates.

‘Take his shoes boys!’ Said Charlie telling us the more we disobey the longer we remain in the vault.

As Bobby stood staring at his brother, me and Jeff got on our knees and began to untie his laces, I lifted his foot and pulled off his trainer. I could smell and feel the warmth of his socked foot. I watched Jeff do the same with Bobby’s other shoe.

We passed the Air Force Ones through the bars leaving all three of us as shoeless prisoners, just as he had wanted. Charlie demanded we call him Sir when we speak to him. Jeff refused. We were reminded of the consequences of disobeying him.

Charlie held up his brothers trainers and smiled.

‘I want you all to thank me for taking care of your trainers whilst your locked in my prison!’

Through gritted teeth in my socked feet I said ‘Thank You!’

‘You all need to say it and properly.’ He said.

‘Thank you for taking care of our shoes!’ We said.

‘Again!’ He said annoying the life out of us.

‘Thank you for taking care of our shoes. Sir!’ We said with great embarrassment with being at the mercy of a 13 year old kid.

Charlie had a big cheesy grin on his face as he left room taking Bobby’s trainers with him.

We sat on the floor staring at our shoeless feet. Charlie had been gone a while, how long was he going to keep us locked up and more importantly what had he done with our shoes?

Orange Socks pt.3

Author – Jman

Mike was was washing windows at the gas station in his blue shirt, white pants, orange socks and no shoes. Just then Joel and Paul pulled up to get gas and get their windows washed. They were on their way to spring break and had stopped in that town for gasoline. As Matt was working in his stocking feet, Joel said to him, “Nice socks!” Paul then replied, “Get some shoes dude!” Matt wanted to say something but he could not otherwise it would be one more week of community service and wearing the bright orange socks which made it clear to everyone that he had broken the law.

Paul and Joel pulled out of the gas station and started to accelerate and went a little too fast. They were stopped by the sheriff for going 42 in a 30 mph zone. They were told to step out of the car and were taken to jail because they were more than ten miles over the speed limit. In this town when a driver is arrested for a violation, all the passengers are also taken in and charged.

Upon arriving at the jail Paul and Joel were ordered to take off their shoes. Joel had some very nice blue and gold Osiris. Paul just had some soccer slides. The officer seemed thrilled abut the blue and gold sneakers and seemed disappointed that Paul only had soccer slides. They were put in the holding cell to wait for their court appearance.

A little later Jesse was driving through town and he had a headlight that was out and he was stopped by the police. He was told that he was driving an unsafe and would have to be taken to jail and appear before the judge. Jesse was wearing red and white converse all stars and was told to remove them. Paul, Joel and Jesse were sitting there in their white socks.

Aaron was also going through town. He was stopped for expired plates as was taken in also. He also had to remove his soccer slides leaving him in black socks.

Also on their way to spring break were Shaun, Bill and Vince. They were also on their way to spring break. They had their car windows rolled down and the radio was on. They were also stopped by the sheriff for excessive noise coming from their vehicle. They also were arrested and their car was impounded. Bill had to take of his tan Sperry’s and Shaun and Vince had to take off their very expensive cowboy boots.

When the time came, the six went to their court appearance in stocking feet as all defendants may not wear shoes but must in be in their socks. They all figured that they would just get a fine and would be on their way. They were socked when they all were sentenced to two weeks of community service and they were ordered to donate their shoes to the thrift shop.

As with many before them, the mini bus took them to the bunkhouse and they were given the bright orange socks to wear for community service. Matt had a grin on his face when the ones who made fun of his orange socks would now be wearing the orange socks themselves.

Meanwhile the sheriff took the shoes of the offenders to the thrift store. Jane, the store manager said to the sheriff, “You have quite a harvest today.” The sheriff said that it was a mixed bag. There was this nice looking pair of blue and gold Osiris and two nice pair of cowboy boots and a nice pair of patent leather shoes. Two of the offenders had only soccer slides, so I did not get much from them. “Well, it is spring break time and that always brings an increase of sockies.” (Sockie is the term the townspeople use for those going community service in the orange socks without shoes.) With all the extra spring work, we need a higher amount of sockies than usual.

The sheriff replied, “They are not going to have the spring break they planned.” Jane said, “When will they learn to obey the rules.

to be continued.

Orange Socks (alternate ending) and part two

Author – Jman

I changed the last two chapters of the story slightly so I could do the alternate ending.

I had finished up my time of community service along with the three friends that I had made. We were taken to the processing room of the courthouse to get released. We were all told to hand over our orange socks. I was glad about that because I did not want to see them again. Our belonging were given back to us but instead of getting our shoes back, we were given a pair of pink socks and told to put them on.

We had asked about our shoes and were told that we would not be getting them back as they had been donated to the thrift store. We were told that the town has an ordinance that anyone who breaks the law has to donate their shoes to the thrift store.

We were then told that we would need the pink socks in order to leave town as wearing pink socks was an indicator to the townspeople that we had served our sentence and were no longer fugitives. We were told that we were to go to the bus station a leave town. Our pink socks would serve as our bus ticket. We were also told that if we attempted to buy our shoes back from the thrift store that we would be in violation of our release and we would be wearing the orange socks again. I asked about getting my car back and was told that I would have to leave on the bus and return another day to get my car back.

The four of us went to the bus station. It was bad enough walking the streets in socks, but pink socks were that much worse.

I finally got back home and put on a suit with my polished black leather shoes and went to the city impound lot. I noticed two other people there wearing pink socks. I went to the window and explained that I had just finished community service and was there to get my car back. The lady replied, “If that is so, where are your pink socks? Anyone doing community service loses their shoes to the thrift shop and is given pinks socks to wear. Since you don’t have your pink socks, your story does not check out.”

The lade pushed a hidden button and a police officer came to the window. The lady explained that I had tried to get a car out of impound and I was not wearing pink socks so I either he escaped from the bunkhouse or was never doing community service and is trying to get a car that is not his.

I was then put under arrest for attempted fraud. I was taken into custody and they took my good shoes. The officer seemed glad because now he had the shoes that he wanted so bad. I was also charged with violating the terms of my release as all release prisoners must wear pink socks without shoes while in town in public. I was also shown video footage of passing the note to Matt.

I went before the judge with three violations and was sentenced to three weeks of community service. Once again I boarded the mini bus to go to the bunkhouse and was given the orange socks. Matt, James, John and Mike were all there to welcome me back.

to be continued.

Don’t Lie

Author – Jman

Brandon, Vince, Mark and Tom left the school premises in violation of the closed campus policy. They thought that no one had noticed them but the principal caught them leaving school on the security cameras. One by one, he called each of them into the office.

Brandon was first. He had some new Red Wing work boots and did not like the prospect of losing them. The principal asked him if he left school. Brandon said that he did not. He was shown the video footage. The principal said, “You lied. Give me your boots.” Brandon was frustrated but knew that arguing was no use so he had down and took off his brand new work boots and gave them to the principal who placed them on the shelf. Brandon was told to remain in the office.

Next Tom was summoned. Tom was wearing blue pumas that were kind of worn but still had some use left in them. He walked in and saw Brandon sitting in his socked feet. The principal asked him if he left school. Tom said that he did not. The principal showed him the video footage of him leaving school. “You have lied,” the principal said, “give me your shoes.” Tom then sat down and took of his shoes revealing brown socks. Tom’s shoes were placed next to Brandon’s boots. Tom was told to remain in the office.

Vince was the next one to be called to account. He saw Brandon and Tom in their socked feet. He was asked if he had left school. He told the truth that he did and proceeded to take off his Converse All Stars to forfeit them. The principal told him, “These two have lied and they lost their shoes, because you told the truth, you get to keep your shoes. At first I was going to take your shoes but since you told the truth, I felt that you should have a different fate then those who lied.” Vince was told to remain in the office.

Mark was then summoned. He was asked if he had left school. He lied and said that he did not and was confronted with the evidence against him. The principal said, “Brandon and Tom are in the their socks because they lied. Vince still has his shoes because he told the truth. If you had told the truth you could have kept your shoes but since you lied, you will lose yours also.” Mark was then asked to take off his brown school shoes.

Vince knew that he deserved to lose his shoes also. After leaving the office, he went into the gym and walked on the floor with street shoes and was caught and had to give up his shoes.

When you are called into the office, honesty is the best policy.

Carl the Criminal. The policeman’s story – part 2

Author – Jay

Jason had a big grin on his face as I approached the charge desk, a few other officers appeared and surrounded me including Gavin.
“We can’t allow ‘Rookies’ to go unpunished for their mistakes”, he said.
I protested that the lads trainers had been stolen and it wasn’t my fault.
“You will have plenty of time inside to realise it was your fault “, he said.
“And what if during my illegal detention I realise what happened to them and then find them later, you would have unfairly punished me” I said.
“If you find those trainers after all this time then you are a better copper than me, I would correct the unfairness by letting you lock me up to avenge your injustice”, he said.
“You can lock me up too if you find them”, said Gavin laughing, knowing it was an impossible task.
There was no way of avoiding the cells. He confiscated my yellow police vest containing my radio, handcuffs, etc aswell as the contents of my pockets. They marched me to the cells and pushed me inside.
“You know the rules, take off your boots,” said Jason. More laughs erupted as I unlaced my boots before pulling them off.
“Hands on the wall and spread your legs”, demanded Jason.
“I’m not a criminal” I said but he searched me down all the way to my shoeless feet. In anticipation of losing my liberty I had hidden my phone inside my sock. But my hope of keeping boredom at bay was gone when Jason found it.
“Smuggling phones inside a cell is an offence,” he said as he picked up my boots and dropped them outside the cell before slamming the door shut. “I’ll work out your extra punishment later” he said waving my phone through the door hatch before closing it”.
I was trapped, nothing I could do as I stood in my uniform in socked feet inside the cell. I was locked up just like the prisoners in surrounding cells.
I felt pretty stupid allowing myself to be here, especially as my prisoner, Carl, is in the opposite cell, if only he knew the copper who had locked him up was now detained shoeless in the cell opposite.
Even though it was noisy in the cells, I managed to get some sleep after my night shift on duty. I woke up realising I was still in my uniform but without my boots, I quickly remembered my incarceration inside the cell.

At lunchtime I was given food, the duty sergeant offered me a deal. If I accepted then my boots would be hidden somewhere in the police station and I would have one hour to find them, but to stop me escaping I would have be handcuffed. Success would mean leaving my detention, failure meant returning to my cell and the forfeit being another period in the cells at Jason’s discretion.
I declined, at least my embarrassment was hidden within the cell walls, the ridicule of wandering around a busy police station in my uniform and socked feet whilst wearing handcuffs searching for my boots would be too much to bear.
If I could not find the teens missing trainers in an empty street how would I find my boots in a busy station.
I resigned myself to the fact I would be stuck inside the cell for another eight hours. At least my prisoner Carl would not be released before me. It gave me some comfort as I layed down in my cell thinking about how I ended up inside.
I thought about the missing trainers again, how did they disappear in an empty street in such a short time and Carl claiming to know nothing.
I managed to get some more sleep but without a watch I didn’t how long I had left inside the cell. It was painfully boring and tedious with the noise from the real prisoners. I will never allow myself to be locked up again, perhaps Jasons peculiar punishment with us Rookies had some positives!
Eventually the cell door opened, it was Jason.
“Hands out”, he said as he slapped some handcuffs on my wrists telling me to pick up my boots.
I was escorted to the charge desk. All my colleagues who’d helped lock me up this morning where ready to go back on duty. They stood smirking as I stood looking rather dishevelled in my creased uniform and socked feet in handcuffs holding my boots. Jason was squeezing every last ounce of embarrassment from me.
“Do you promise to accept that your punishment was justified without complaint, your colleagues here will bear witness to your acceptance”, said Jason. Refusing to agree would make me look bad infront of my colleagues even though I had been illegally locked up for 16 hours.
“I promise to never mention it ever again as long as you keep your promise of doing cell time if I find those missing trainers”, I said. Everyone laughed as they looked at our sergeant, Jason agreed knowing it was almost impossible for the missing teenagers shoes to be found. He released the handcuffs and told me to get ready for my shift to start in 10 minutes. I ran in my socked feet to the male locker rooms, without time to shower I quickly changed my shirt but I would have to wear the same creased up trousers, I put on my boots for the first time in 16 hours. I flattened my hair as best I could and went and retrieved my confiscated police vest and belongings.
My shift had started.

To be continued.

Unlucky policeman

Author – Unlucky lad

Joe, 25, aswell as other officers from around the country had gone to assist the Met police in London for a big anti-lockdown demo that weekend.
At 6ft 3 tall with short bleached blond hair and covered in tattoos he hadn’t gone unnoticed by the commanding officer who ordered him to go undercover amongst the protesters. An excited Joe quickly changed out of his uniform into his jeans, green Lacoste polo shirt and white Nike Air Force 1 trainers. Nobody would suspect he was a policeman, his brief was to seek out troublemakers and ringleaders in the crowd.
Using his phone camera, Joe would take and send images of suspects to his superiors, he also took selfies and random photos of others to look inconspicuous. Typically, his phone bleeped ‘low battery’. He messaged ‘phone needs charging’ then hurriedly sent as many images as he could before it died completely.
Joe watched as his suspects where extracted from the crowd. Suddenly Joe was grabbed and quickly handcuffed, his protests went unheard in the noisy crowd. Thrown in a police van along with the suspects he became quiet so not to reveal his identity.
Two teenagers that he had randomly photographed where also handcuffed and put in the van. He quickly realised that in his haste he must have sent the images of himself and other innocent demonstrators. Not only had he accidentally incriminated the teenagers but himself too.
Joe assured the scared teenagers that they would be released at the police station. Another guy laughed, “We will be illegally locked up for hours to stop us returning to the protest”, he said. Joe dismissed the idea, he knew the police arrest procedures.
“Nice trainers” said another protester to Joe.
“Thanks” said Joe, looking at his white Airforce 1 trainers, they where now scuffed. He looked at everyone else’s feet, the teenagers wore Vans, most of the others where wearing Adidas trainers, ‘typical footwear of football supporting thugs’ he thought. He expected their shoes to be taken from them after they are detained at the police station. Joe enjoyed arresting young guys as they often wore the latest kicks, Joe bought his Airforce 1’s after inspecting a similar pair he’d confiscated from a lad before locking him in a cell. 
He relaxed, his Nikes would be staying on his feet knowing that once he shows his police warrant card he would be released.
The police van stopped, everyone got out. They weren’t at a police station but inside a warehouse with rows of large cages. ‘Temporary jail cells, not your usual custody suite’ thought Joe. The police left them in the custody of the jail guards. Still handcuffed they where escorted passed several cages, some already had protesters inside, angry at their incarceration, they where all without shoes. Joe anticipated the Adidas wearers to be joining them. They stopped outside an office door with a hand written sign, ‘Processing’. Joe hadn’t been wrong, one by one they entered through the door to then exit shoeless. Eventually Joe was escorted inside the office and uncuffed.
‘Empty your pockets and take off your shoes” demanded a guard.
Joe explained that he was an undercover police officer and had accidentally been ‘taken out’ with the other protesters. They asked Joe to produce his warrant card, he searched his pockets but it wasn’t there.
“God damn it, it’s still in my uniform” said Joe.
“Of course it is” said the guard shaking his head, he again told Joe to empty his pockets and remove his shoes.
Joe demanded they charge his phone so he could contact his commanding officer. “Would you like a coffee while we wait for it to charge” said the guard sarcastically. The other guards laughed.
“We are expecting hundreds of demonstrators, we need to process everyone very quickly. So without your I.D. you’ll be treat like everyone else so empty your pockets and take off your shoes”
They clearly weren’t interested in helping Joe, he knew not to resist unless he wanted to be taken to the ground, handcuffed and his shoes forcibly removed. So he obeyed the instruction and took off his trainers. A guard frisk searched Joe as another placed his now confiscated Nikes in a box containing the Adidas trainers.
A few hours earlier he had been in his police uniform ready to tackle protesters but now he was about to join them behind bars.
“Cage 3” said the guard, Joe was escorted to his confinement in socked feet.
Placed inside the caged cell, Joe asked the guard how long he would be detained.
“Until the demo has finished, could be just hours or it could be tomorrow then you’ll all be released without charge” said the guard as he slammed the cage door shut. He had wanted to spend his night in London drinking in bars and not stuck behind them.
He felt guilty as the innocent teenagers joined him in the cage after having their Vans confiscated too. If only his fellow captives knew it was him that put them there. He was feeling pretty embarrassed, how was he going to live down getting himself arrested whilst on duty. How would he explain to his superiors that he had been languishing behind bars with those he had helped to arrest. At least he now knew what it was like to be arrested and getting his shoes confiscated just like he had done to others many times before.

Football hooligans

Author – Jay

“Where’s your school pal” asked grandad James as I got in the car. I explained he had to collect his shoes from our Chemistry teacher. Grandad laughed asking what Jordan had done to lose his shoes. I didn’t have time to explain before Jordan got in the car.
As Grandad drove off he asked my school pal why he was late. Jordan sheepishly said he had his shoes confiscated. Explaing that he had pulled off a shoe from a girl and threw it out of the window. The teacher told him to go get it but not before taking Jordans shoes from him. The class laughed as he he walked out the room shoeless. After returning the girls shoe he was told to collect his own shoes after school ended. He spent all afternoon in his socked feet. Jordan said he had never felt so embarrassed at having his shoes confiscated at 16 years old.
Grandad laughed, “Don’t beat yourself up” he said explaining he got his shoes taken from him as a 19 year old teenager not by a teacher but a policeman in the street.
It was the early seventies in London, he and his mate Terry had got the tube into town one Saturday afternoon. Fighting had erupted amongst football supporters on the train. At Putney Bridge Station the supporters had got off and became surrounded by the police. He and Terry stayed on the train, a young police constable entered their carriage and asked them if they’d been involved in the disturbance, Terry said they had not as they were not football supporters. The policeman said he needed to question them about the incident and asked them to accompany him back to Putney Bridge tube station. Outside the station entrance where about fifty youths surrounded by coppers, grandad said he found it amusing to see all the supporters stood in socked feet. They walked past a large pile of shoes and boots, when the policeman said to his sergeant “heres another two”. He and Terry were told by the sergeant to take off their boots, grandad protested his innocence telling him he wasn’t going to any football match and he wasn’t wearing boots but expensive leather shoes. The policeman told him that if he doesn’t take off his shoes he would be nicked for obstruction and would be spending the night in jail. Without hesitation he and Terry quickly removed their expensive leather shoes, the copper then threw their loafers on the pile of other confiscated footwear and marched him and Terry in their socked feet to the end of the row of shoeless football supporters.
“Wait here, You’ll get your shoes back after you’ve been questioned and searched” said the sergeant, Terry shouted they had done nothing wrong but the copper just walked off. Grandad said as a teenager he had never been in trouble with law and here he was amongst football hooligans in his socks in the street, he felt quite embarrassed as people walked past staring at them as if they where all criminals.
I found it difficult to imagine my grandad as a teenager being in trouble and getting his shoes taken from him.
They watched as more lads where forced to remove their footwear and joined the queue to be searched. Terry asked another lad why the coppers took away their shoes, he claimed it was to stop anyone running off before being searched and the coppers enjoyed doing it especially as everyone had to search for their boots afterwards making them late for the football match.
He also said coppers classed their boots as offensive weapons and often made football supporters remove them before entering the football grounds only to have them returned afterwards. It was to deter lads from wearing boots as watching a match in socked feet on a cold winters day wasn’t very pleasant.
After about one hour with cold feet they where questioned and searched and allowed to go. When they got to the pile of confiscated boots, their leather shoes where missing, probably stolen. When they complained a policeman said just take any pair that fits. He and Terry ended up wearing some scruffy old boots whilst their expensive leather shoes where probably on their way to Fulham football club on the feet of some thugs. The coppers didn’t care said grandad.
Jordan didn’t feel too bad as he got out of the car, at least he got his shoes back and didn’t have to stand outside in his socked feet.

Grandad said this went on a lot in the sixties and seventies. I found some old photographs of young guys on the streets of London in their socked feet on mirrorpix.com just search for youths boots.

Mrs Marstons boots

Author – Richyrich

As a teenager I became friends with a guy called Rob Marston who had just moved into the area and who lived in a nice house with his mother. She, a lady in her 40’s was very smart and always dressed very stylishly. He was an only child and his father had sadly died a few years earlier so it was just him and his mother. After we had known each other and become friends over a few months, Rob asked me if I would like to come over to his house and have supper with him and his mother after school one evening and I accepted the offer. A date was set and as he lived some distance from the school it was arranged that his mother would pick up the two of us after school. I had briefly met his mother a few times before but never spent a lot of time with her so this would be a chance for me to get to know her better.
The day arrived and Rob and I met his mother a few metres from the school. Mrs Marston was an attractive lady, about 5’6 tall (or so I reckoned she would be without her heels) with a slim figure and shoulder length black hair and was dressed as nicely as always, this time she was wearing a blue dress with a white jacket and an elegant pair of black high heeled knee length suede boots. She had a nice car, a red BMW and she then greeted me most friendlily, saying
“Well I’ve heard a lot about you my dear, I look forward to having you over and getting to know you better” I replied that I was also looking forward to visiting her house and getting to know her.
The drive to Rob’s house took some 20 minutes and we then arrived at an old converted farmhouse which had been done up. It seemed a lovely house. Rob had already told me that his father had built up a successful electronics business that was doing well and after his sudden death, his mother had sold the business for a substantial sum of money, which meant that the two of them could continue to enjoy a comfortable standard of living without her having to go to work. He had also told me that his mother was very fussy about keeping the house clean and spent a lot of her time cleaning the house (which must have taken up quite a bit of her time given that the house was pretty big) After we came to the end of the long driveway we came out of the car and walked towards the front door of the house. Just before we arrived at the door my friend’s mother told me
“My dear, I don’t mean to be fastidious and I’m a pretty easy going lady on the whole but I’m sure that Rob has told you that I like to keep my house clean and spotless, so there is just one rule when you come here. I think you can probably guess what it is.”
“No I can’t say that I do sorry Mrs Marston”
“Oh I’m surprised that Rob hasn’t told you but we don’t wear shoes in our house. They come off in the porch, we leave them there and inside the house we just go about in our stockinged feet”
“Fair enough Mrs Marston” I replied, “your house, your rules”
We then went into the porch whereupon Mrs Marston said pointing to some shelves
“We just leave our shoes on these, after you’ve done that you can go in and we can all have some refreshments”
Rob and I removed our shoes and placed them neatly on the shelves and Mrs Marston also bent down, unzipped her boots, exposing her legs and feet in nude stockings or tights and then also placed the boots on another shelf. We then all went through to the living room.
The inside of the house was as stylish as the outside, the floors were covered with cream carpets so I could understand why Mrs Marston was so keen on shoes being removed. Indeed the plush carpets felt quite comfortable under my socked feet.
“Right boys”, she said “I’ll just go and get us some biscuits and a drink, then I’ll go and cook dinner and you can go to what we call the drawing room and have a natter”
Shortly afterwards Mrs Marston returned with biscuits and orange juice for us and we started chatting
“You’ve got a really nice place here Mrs Marston. When you first told me that I would have to take off my shoes, I didn’t feel too comfortable about it, doing it in someone else’s house but it already feels really comfortable, especially with your lovely carpets underneath my feet”
“Oh yes it’s great” she replied rubbing her nude stockinged feet together as she spoke “in actual fact, maybe I shouldn’t say this to you but it actually feels quite sensual to feel my nyloned feet on the carpet”, with a slightly mischievous smile as she said it.
After we had finished our refreshments Mrs Marston went to the kitchen to start preparing dinner and Rob and I went to the so called drawing room. I told him that a drawing room sounded very posh and he said that his mother sometimes did like to put some airs on! A while later I wanted to go to the bathroom and I asked Rob where the toilet was. He said that there was a downstairs one just by the front door and the porch. After I had been to the toilet I went to the porch and had a peek at Mrs Marston’s boots, there were smart ones and it looked as though they were new and rather expensive. I was then overcome with temptation to play a trick on her. I took the boots and carried them with me upstairs. There were four bedrooms there and I peeked into them, and found one which seemed like a spare bedroom. I then put the boots under the bed there before returning downstairs to the Rob in the “drawing room”.
Some time afterwards Mrs Marston called us for dinner in the dining room. It was a nice meal, a lamb casserole and we all had a good conversation as we ate it. After we had coffee afterwards she said that she would then drive me home. She then told me to go to the porch and put my coat and shoes back on.
“Hmmm” I said to myself, “this is the moment. How will she react?”
Mrs Marston went to the porch after me and looked at the shelf where she had placed her boots.
“My goodness where have my boots gone? Rob” she shouted “have you moved my boots again without me asking you? I’ve told you before that you shouldn’t do that as I need to get them quickly when I go out”
“I haven’t touched them this time Mum” he said
“Oh my God” Mrs Marston said concerningly “there have been some burglaries around here recently, I hope no one’s been prowling around here and seen my boots and stolen them as they were pretty expensive. That would be really awful”
She must have seen a smirk on my face as she said to me
“You haven’t hidden them and think it’s funny have you?”
“Why would I do a thing like that Mrs Marston?” I replied acting the innocent
“I don’t know, Rob has done it a few times as a prank.”
At that point she took my shoes off the shelf and held them.
“Right” she said “until you tell me where you’ve put my boots, you’re not having your shoes back either which means that you can’t go from here. Both of us will have to stay here in our stockinged feet until I find them.”
After a couple of minutes silence I then said
“Ummm, Mrs Marston, I suggest that you go and look through the spare bedrooms.”
Whereupon she went upstairs and some five minutes later came back down carrying her boots.
“OK” she said “you had your fun but you had me really worried about what had happened to my lovely boots. It’s been lovely having you here and I’ll be happy to have you again soon but there’ll be one condition.”
“What is it Mrs Marston?”
“Well, when you come here from now on, you’ll give your shoes to me as soon as you take them off in the porch, and I will then hide them and only give them back to you when it’s time for you to go home, if you’ve behaved yourself. Is that a deal?”
“Yes whatever, Mrs Marston”
Mrs Marston then drove me home. I did go there a few times again and she was as good as her word, I would always hand over my shoes to Mrs Marston as soon as I took them off in the porch and she would then go and hide them and give them back to me when it was time to leave.