I can’t see
you Friday,
I’m Busy.
SaturdaySundayMondayTuesdayWednesdayThursday
Perhaps
Next Friday?
And Every
Day After That.
Click.
With a click
of the phone
my world
went dark.
Everything
that had ever happened
everything that ever happened before
everything ever ever after
that moment:
Commentary.
Icicles form
from my breath
shackles of
meaningless guide me
dying to know
why.
We're sick of this, of being locked away in the dark. She never does anything, goes anywhere anymore. Our lives are just so much drudgery, so drab. How do we get her out? It's not that she's being recalcitrant or in a state of flux or surly, it's just that... It's just that...
Aw hell, we're bored.
We can't go anywhere without her and she doesn't take us with her. We'd be happy even if she threw us the proverbial bone by throwing us in a bag and in the car, took us out of this box, out of this closet, got us closer to the light of day or maybe please, please, oh please, the dark of night.
We live for dark of night, seeing the headlights reflect off our gleam, watching cars come to a screeching halt at our glory, and then, when Venus and Mercury rise, sky tips from ink and turns us diamond bright, we live.
We want out.
After all we've done for her, ungrateful chit, how we protected her, advised her and avenged her, what do we get? Nothing. Nada. Zip.
Which proves we have to take charge, take care of us same as we take care of her, remind her we are here for her, all she has to do is look down and we'll take her out of herself, kick open the gate on that new life she's been mooning over. All she has to do is look down.
Only if she looks down now, she won't see us, not hidden in this box behind a stack of other boxes and bags and reject sweaters and gifts from pricks who aren't worthy of being stilettoed by our perfect heels.
Why? Why are we buried? Are we more demons and memories she can't acknowledge, another Bad Place she can't revisit? Why?
Only way to know is to get out and confront her. She never liked confrontation, but it's honest, it's true, and it's so much easier on the heart than avoidance and duplicity and sarcasm. If we wiggle a bit, a bit more, a little bit more, more.
-CRASH-
oops. Damn. Still buried. Well, she sees this mess, she'll have to clean it up and once she sees us again, we'll slide onto those elegant painted toes and figure out what's what. We will. She won't deny us, not after all we've done for her.
Now, we wait.
We warned you. We told you over and over again, but no, you wouldn’t listen. You know better, right big shot? And now look at you.
We told you we were not going. You couldn’t make us go, not for all the tea in China, India and Pakistan. Cobblestones, rough terrain, airplane security [they make us go through metal detectors? X-ray? Us? No way] cold snap and no guarantee that we would be taken out like we deserve, like we want to be taken out? Not by him, certainly. Penny-ante cheapskate. We were not going to risk our heels going there, no way. Better to stay home and watch repeats of sitcoms on television, which is never our first choice or even our twenty-third choice in terms of things to do, but between staying here and going there?
Huh. That was a no-brainer.
Yeah. No brainer. That’s our little girl, all emotion and maelstrom and hither and yon, brain totally turned off when it comes to him. Pathetic.
Yes, we know, little girl, we know. You can admit it to us. We know you really didn’t want to go either, not there. It’s so wrong, so very wrong, that you went because you just couldn’t figure a way out, a way to tell him ‘no.’ Although you did tell him, over and over, that you’d much prefer to go to any of a hundred places instead of there.
Little girl, you should have used your ace. That’s why you have us.
All you had to do was tell him the shoes said ‘No.’
What do you mean, you told him and he didn’t buy it? We are your shoes. We are your protectors and guides. It is up to us to say where and when you go. And we said ‘No."
End of story.
And you went anyway.
Now look at you.
Tears, tears, tears. Ridiculous. You’re shedding tears over that bully? Wipe your nose, child, it’s running. That bully who never heard a thing you said? Even when you agreed to go, did he take you any of the places you wanted to go to? Hmm? Do the things you wanted to do? Eat where you wanted to eat? Even your dream restaurant, which you wanted to stay a dream. Now what’s your excuse to go back? He ripped the mystery from your dream and left nothing in its place but a ‘closed until further notice’ sign.
No. Your wants are secondary. It’s all about him. Asshole.
Sorry, little girl, but it is supposed to be about you. You don’t even know why you went, but we can tell you, it was not the same reason he went. Selfish bastard had his own agenda. You know he was planning to break up with you while you were there? You realized that, right?
And now you have such a lovely souvenir. The gift that keeps on giving. Are you going to ask him where he picked up that little present for you? Rat fuck.
Don’t worry, little girl. You just concentrate on getting better, on healing. All of you needs to heal. We’ve got his number. We’ve got sharp heels. And we have connections. He’s got that bright, shiny new car with that beautiful slick paint job just aching to be...aching to be...aching to be... Customized. Yes. That’s the word, customized.
You don’t worry you pretty head about anything except getting better. We’ll take care of it. You leave it to us. Trust us. We are your shoes.
And nobody fucks with our little girl. Nobody.
We’re going out! Our little girl is taking us out! About effing time, too. We were born to be wild. That is our whole entire raison d’etre.
What is the point of having ‘fuck me’ pumps if you’re not going out hunting? Or at least going out SOMETHING?
Okay, serious business now. The dress.
No. Not that one. Not that one either. No. Oh puh-leze.
Yes, we understand you want to wear this one. We KNOW you were thinking of this dress when you brought us home, we do. How? We’re the shoes, we know EVERYTHING. Seriously, not this one.
Yes, we know. Yes, you do look great in it. Yes, you do have a body to die for. Yes, it does make men want you and women want to be you.
BUT NOT TONIGHT
WEAR THE OTHER DRESS
TRUST US.
The shoes know. Isn’t that why you brought us home? It’s okay.
Tonight, you are going to look classy, not trashy. You have people to impress. Most of all, you have yourself to impress. Classy, not trashy.
Go on, zip it up. Much better. Don’t you feel proud now? You know it’s the right thing to do. That was the dress when it doesn’t matter. This is the dress for courage. Stand tall, lttle girl.
We’ll make sure our little girl has a good time. We know you haven’t been to a party in forever and you’ve never been to a party alone. Not merely unescorted, but totally alone. You don’t know a single person here. It’s okay. That’s why we’re here. The shoes will be your escorts for the evening, madam.
We’ll make sure you have a good time and you get whatever you want.
Dance, little girl, dance.
Don’t worry, you just dance by yourself. Anybody looks askance, reflection on them, not on you. You just have your own good time. Conga line? What do you think? Limbo was great, loved that, but conga? Oh why not.
"Come on, shake your body baby, do the conga. I know you can't control yourself any longer."
WTF?????
Did that bitch do what we think she did?
No. Can’t be.
"Feel the fire of desire as you dance the night away. 'Cos tonight we're gonna party til we see the break of day."
She did it again. Okay, little girl, you going to handle this or are we going to do it?
"Excuse me. You put your hands on my waist and touched my breasts. You put your hands on my hips and grabbed my ass. If you don’t keep your carpet-munching hands to yourself, I’m going to take you down. You put hands on me like a guy, you get treated like a guy. Do NOT touch me."
Our turn.
"OOPS! Did I stomp you foot? I am SO sorry." Sorry our instep! We feel great!
"I know you can't control yourself any longer. Feel the rhythm of the music getting strongerDon't you fight it till you've tried it. Do the conga beat. Come on, shake your body baby, do the conga."
You know, there’s nothing like going to a charity ball, trying to do a mitzvah and having it morph into a charity brawl.
Take us home, beautiful. Tomorrow is another day.
We are so tired of sitting here. We want to go home. No. We want a home. We want someone to take us home, any someone. As long as that any someone is beautiful and will take us the places we deserve to go, take us miles and miles away floating over this laundromat...
Oops. Wrong commercial. Can you imagine US in a laundromat? Inane! Insane! Impossible!
So who will take us places, take us out to dinner, to shows, to museums, out dancing-
OMG! Out dancing. We must pick someone who will take us out dancing. Oui! Certainement! Absolument! Sans doute! That is more important than anything else we will do because dancing will lead to... Oh yes, we must go dancing! Swing is good, that’s fun, the waltz, measured and stately, the tango. We were made to do the tango. One two three, dip, one two three, spin, one two three, fuck, one two three. Not hip-hop. Could you imagine US doing hip-hop? That has got to be the most ludicrous image in the world. Hip-hop is for sneakers, not for shoes. And never ever for shoes such as the pair of us.
One two three, fuck. Yesss. We want to fuck. All else is commentary, a prelude, foreplay to that. Look at us. Don’t you want to fuck us? We are so sleek, so shapely. Look at ou tiny waist, the flare of our instep, our vamp, our long sculpted heel. Look at our zipper. Zzzip! The sound it makes putting us on and off, snug around a shapely ankle, bend over to zip us on, adjust our straps around that ankle. Now throw us up in the air to fix the last strap, way up in the air. Oh my, we are so far apart and what is happening at the other end of the leg from us?
That is why you must take us home. So we can take you dancing, find you a pair of black patent wingtips to rub up against us and then he can explore the rest of you while we lie in the closet with our heels snug inside those wingtips which held his foot just as he is snug inside you, enjoy you, please you.
Oh yes, we must find someone to take us home so we can have a good time. Oh yes.
Her. Look at her. Why, she’s been crying. She drips tears, she leaves a trail of tears. What? She will fight no more forever? What does THAT mean? Of course she will fight. That is why she is here. To fight dirty. Here, lovely lady. We will be your weapon of mass destruction. We will give you unfair advantage in this war you fight. Hineni, lovely lady! Hineni! Come on, you see us. Yes, you do, don’t deny it.
Mmm hmm. You hear our siren song. We will seduce you, we will lead you down the islet that stretches between the Scylla and Charybdis. Pick us up. We will make it better, we will stop the crying for a while if you let us help you, if you take us home. We will make it go away. We will, just look at us. Imagine us.
Hello there, beautiful. You are, you know. So beautiful. Oh lovely lady, living well is the best revenge, you know that. He’ll like us, too, like how we make your legs look, your whole body will be enhanced. He will see you in these and he’ll want to grab us and kiss us, throw you back on the bed, fling us over your head and oh my!. He will bite your ankle, lick your calf, suck on that tender part on the inside of your knee while his hands touch us, his fingers find places to slide into, stroke the arch of your foot next to us, snug into the ankle strap, slide into and and and. Goodbye right foot! Goodbye left foot! I can barely see you so far away!
What will he do when he sees you in us, lovely lady? What won’t he do when he sees you in us? Just think of it. You can feel it, lovely lady, yes you can. You like it. You want to see him on his knees admiring us, admiring you wearing us.
And if not him, we’ll help you find someone new to make you feel beautiful and desired and sleek and sexy. We will make you stand out from the rest of the cattle, we are the only one of us in this world and you are the only one of you.
Yes, lovely lady, yes.
"Visa or Mastercard?"
"American Express."
"Sign here, please. Enjoy them. They are stunning."
"Oh I will. I most definitely will."
YES!!!
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