The Green Shoes

When one is slipping on a pair of green shoes with one hand while the other hand is skillfully holding a cell phone, keys, a wallet, and a granola bar against his chest, his body is somewhat bent and contorted in a way that he knows his orthopedic specialist would frown upon, if not warn against altogether. Green shoes on, he shuts the door firmly behind him, wiggles the handle to assure proper locking, and walks toward his car.
The concrete seems to scrape and pull at the faded black rubber soles, but this is nothing new. Not their first time being abused by the habits of man, being exposed to the elements, left to fend for themselves, only ever noticed in second glances and when selfish Sam happens to cross his legs on the subway before work. This particular attempt to cross his legs got selfish Sam into quite the awkward situation.
“You just put your dirty ass shoe on my dress,” she says loudly, drawing the attention of all around.
“My mistake. Won’t happen again. Sorry.”
“I’ll have to take this to the cleaners now. What did you step in? This is bullshit. And right before work. Damn it,” she swats furiously at the black scuff. It remained. Taunting and ever-present.
“Listen, take down my number, send me the bill. Completely my problem.”
An accident, thought the green shoes. A simple misunderstanding perpetuated both by an uptight woman’s bitchery and their owner’s codependent sissy-hood.
“That will not work. I have a meeting today. In fifteen minutes I have a very important meeting. With important people. Do you know any important people. You look like you don’t. Some of us have jobs.”
“I have a job. I’m going there now.”
“With important people? Do important people who have important meetings come into your place of work. Do they regularly come in and order pizza or whatever crummy food you serve?”
“I’m a writer,” he says, “and sometimes they do.”
As he jotted his number down nervously, but still smiling, the shoes tapped over and over on the metallic floor. One down, they thought, 6,658,246,550 to go.