My Left Shoe
November 1, 2002
What would you do for love?
by Mark Budman
had a boyfriend once who liked to wear my p*nties. He ruined every one of them though he had a small b*tt. I kept him because he had a cute nose, but when I saw him applying my lipstick I called it quits. So when Doug Prince, the executive vice-president of our Mice'R'Us, stole my Manolo Blahniks with the six-inch heels, I was mad but not surprised.
I liked the pair. They were transparent, as if made of glass. Very classy. 'Almost as classy as you,' Doug kept saying before he stole the left one. 'You are my princess and the multi-gigahertz microprocessor of my life.'
I was sure it was him. Jenna, my ugly roommate, lusted after my shoes but her feet were too big. And why would she want just one? I should have seen what was coming the day Doug said 'sh*t.' I told him that this was an inappropriate word and he looked at me as if I had a stain on my blouse.
I found the shoe missing the morning after my first s*x with Doug. It was so romantic. I wore a white sleeveless dress, those shoes and a pearl necklace. When his car refused to start right at the stroke of midnight (we had stopped on the way from his place to neck, and were parked next to a church), he carried me for almost a mile to my house.
'I do it for love,' he said, panting like he was about to c*me again. 'What would you do for love?'
'Make a dinner reservation,' I said. I couldn't come up with anything better; I was sleepy. He gave me a look as if I had b*rped in public.
Two days later, surprise! When I got up and went to the bathroom, there was Doug in his und*rwear, his blond hair mussed, his blue eyes bloodshot, brushing his teeth. He wasn't supposed to be there. He should have slept alone like a spanked baby at his own apartment. Worse yet, Jenna stood next to him, bent at an awkward angle, trying to imitate a martyr's smile. That Wisconsin cow with King Kong feet!
I felt like my heart was about to jump out and beat them silly. 'What is going on?' I said.
'Sorry, darling,' Doug said. 'I'm moving in with Jenna.'
Why? I didn't say it, but I meant it.
Stupid as he was, he somehow understood. 'Look at her foot. Isn't this the most romantic thing you've ever seen?'
I looked and saw why she stood so crookedly. Her right foot was bare and she wore my shoe on the other. I couldn't see how she managed to slip it on. Did she cut off her toes or something? The shoe was all blo*dy. In the bathroom I cleaned last night!
'I see she wears my stolen shoe,' I said. 'She stole my shoe and my boyfriend. In another society I would call her on a duel or poison her Evian. In this society I'll call the cops.'
'Yes, she does,' he said. 'But she does it for love, because I said I like the shoes. Would you do this for me, Cindy? I'm not sure. You're way above that.'
'Like h*ll I would,' I said. 'Not for a cheater like you.'
I returned to my room and cried for a bit. Then it dawned at me.
She's a wimp, I thought. Not enough guts to wear the whole pair. And he's a jerk because he admires half-measures for the sake of showing off. But let them be.
I'll never date a guy with a fet*sh again, I thought as I removed my p*nties and snapped silk stockings onto my g*rter belt.
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