DIRTY NEW SHOES

White shoes are the worst. They’re expensive, hard to maintain, and it's a pain when they get dirty, but I just can’t stop buying them… I knew it was time for some new ones, but the question was, where would I find new white shoes? It was Saturday after all, and at 10:30 pm, many stores were already closed. I was tired, but I wanted to show off those new white shoes to my female coworker.

“Maybe these shoes will stop Sarah and Jolyne from laughing at my car next time I pull into the office,” I said, as I deliriously piled into my crummy 2013 Ford Focus.

I was finally at the mall, and after stumbling through minimum wage employees and families of four, I reached my destination. There it was baby, the infamous “Foot Locker” I’d heard much about. I never visited this mysterious place before. Sure, I’ve been to other shoe stores in the past, but these freaks were dressing up like it was a little league game. From far away, the workers looked like Zebras in the wild.

“Jesus… I just want to buy shoes man,” I said.

“So… you want to buy some shoes I’ve heard?” the employee said, catching me off guard from behind. He seemed nice enough, but he had that look in his eye. That fiery look that a minimum wage worker gets when they see a vulnerable customer needing help.

“Please try any shoe you like!” the worker said.

I tried one, two, three, at least five pairs of shoes on as the employee kept hustling to make a decision. Finally, I snapped.

“Enough! I'm... I- I’m done okay. I'm tired. I'm sick of trying on shoes. I'm just getting the same white ones and going.”

I went into the backroom, grabbed a fresh pair of white shoes, left more than 200 dollars, more than the price of the shoes on the table as compensation, and left in frustration.

At long last after everything I went through, I had my new white shoes. They were like a clear canvas, beautiful, simple, perfect. I remember why I loved white shoes in the first place. Ever since I was a kid, my would always get me white shoes. When she passed away it was quite difficult. I always found this strange, warm comfort wearing them though, like she was always watching me. I put my new shoes on and exited, thinking about them.

Womp! Womp! Womp!

“Oops! Sorry, sir! I didn’t mean to get all that dirt on your new white shoes!” an obnoxious man said, scuttling about the mall floor. He kept shuffling about, stepping on one, two, three different pairs of shoes as he made his way down the hallway. Each victim's shoes more damaged than the last. I was grateful I had something new to wear at work, or at least I kept telling myself that. I got back in my beat-up car and drove back to my lonely apartment.

“Time to sleep!” I said. As I was just about to turn the lights off, I pointed at the shoes and said, “Don’t you guys go anywhere!” I reluctantly turned the light off, still looking at a brown smudge plastered on the shoe's white canvas.

The next morning, I pulled into the office. My female co-worker looked at me, giving me a snicker, and said, “Nice new shoes, dork. I like the brown stain on it. It gives it a lot of character.”

“I know, right? Oh my god! I bet his mom picked them out for him too,” another female coworker said.

As they walked away, they exchanged jokes with one another, each joke more brutal than the last.

“Well, Mom, thanks for the suggestion,” I said, chuckling as I looked down at my new dirty shoes.

Evan Stojanovic hails from the suburbs of New Jersey. He’s into competitive esports and is a pro at fighting games. He’s also into acting and entertainment.