We’ve got a really big shoe tonight…

May 4, 2009 at 12:10 pm (Cussed Dumbers)

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Just when I think I’ve seen it all, something new comes along.

Last night provided a typical example. It was early evening at work. Dr T stopped by to return some books, offer a break to visit the “necessary room,” get change, etc… It had been quiet, we stood there passing the time when Weird Steven walked in. Carrying the biggest shoe I’d ever seen.

Dr T: “I’m not often rendered speechless, but this would be one of those moments.”

Me? I couldn’t stop laughing, and when I did, “Where the hell did you get that?” It was a chair shaped like a giant spiked-heel ladies shoe.

“I bought it at Ross.” He relaxed when he realized we were laughing about the uniqueness of the chair and not his taste in furniture.

“That’s awesome! Why is it here?”

“I needed room in my apartment, and Elmo said he’d take it. I’m going to leave it in the office, and he can pick it up later.”

Inspiration struck. “Don’t put it in the office. Leave it out here, and I’ll put it away. I can think of so many pictures I’d like to take right now.”

He shrugged. “Okay. Call Elmo and remind him to pick it up?”

I agreed, and he left. Woohoo!

Dr T left as well, giving me time to focus on my deviant side project. I wanted it to be visible, but not obstructive. I updated Elmo, and promised not to get any stank on it.

Unless I had the opportunity, of course.

really-big-shoe

Until I had someone willing to pose with it, I put it on top of a half-cooler near the front windows. Inebriated patrons leaving Cinco de Mayo pointed and laughed. Tina, one of my favorite bartenders, came in for an after-work beverage. She’s a hottie that reminds me of Melanie Griffith. I asked if she wanted to pose on my shoe?

“I just got off work, hon. I feel grody.”

“You look wonderful.” She did.

“You’re just saying that.” She looked up at the chair, then looked down at her outfit: A denim mini-skirt over latex-looking tights. “You’re such a pervert!”

“I’d bring the chair down here, dear. Maybe put it in front of the porno?”

“See? Pervert!”

Sigh.

She promised a raincheck.

Another favorite server from the block came in for cigarettes. She was all for it until I mentioned the camera. “Sorry, no photographic evidence.” She wagged a finger. “My parents think I’m a student. They don’t even know I drink!”

I understood, having been raised in an uber-straight environment. It was still fun to think about.

I’d had one other target in mind; a bootylicious gal from the street, whose income isn’t reported on a 1040. I wanted to pose her just so, and call it “Don’t make me break my foot off in yo’ ass!” She didn’t come by; maybe I should check the booking photos. 0 for 3.

I moved the chair in front of the porno rack for a couple of quick photos. I couldn’t help but think that this chair was built for lap dances. (Full disclosure: I’ve never had a traditional lap dance. Dry humping? Sure, but not the Showgirls-style stripper-in-the-back room variety. Saving myself for marriage.) I can hope that the chair is still there when I get to work today. First Monday of the month? All the working and party girls will be out tonight.

Maybe I can find another shoe just like it. They usually run in pairs.

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